Serious Talks (Estaban) - Beach House - Estaban/Griselda

She helped him undress her. It was one of the rare, few times, that she didn't seem to shy away from her own nudity or sexuality. Not in the least. She kept her eyes on his, though, obviously intending to undress him once her own clothing had made itself to the floor. Each time his hands brushed against her skin, she drew in a breath, needed or not. She didn't quite whimper, but it was close. This was more about their feelings than it was about desire, even, though she didn't shy away from him. Not this time. Maybe not ever again.

He continues to look straight into her eyes. This is how it should be. Neither of them afraid or shy, both so happy just to be together. This was about feelings and his feeling ran as high as hers right now. He slowly took of each piece of clothing almost reverentially, till she stood in all her glory. And then he waited for her to start undressing him. He would help, but she had to start.

She had no trouble starting. In fact, nearly as soon as he had all of her own clothing off, she was reaching for his. Small hands, still carrying the chill of her undead flesh, gently started to remove the buttons of his shirt. She didn't seem shy now, not even a little bit. Her eyes held his as she started to gently remove his clothing, one piece at a time, all still with that same gentle, joyous smile on her face.

His face went from a beam to... something else. Just as joyful but more..tranquil. He was at peace. He knew what he was doing was the right thing. Knew this moment was the right moment. Knew that everything for once in his life was right, exactly now. He helped her as she took off his clothes one at a time. Every time her chilled flesh touched his he sighed gently.

Once his clothes were gone as well, she stood back up. Stood before him. Letting him see her, as she reached out with one hand... letting it rest against his chest. She was still looking up at him, into his eyes. And she was smiling, just watching him. Waiting, it seemed, for what he might want from her next.

He put a hand on her as well, over her heart. And then he walked closer to her, his other hand caressing her face, holding her cheek, and moving into a kiss. The kiss was slow, sweet, starting soft, a bare whisper of a kiss but deepening, like their relationship had, like their feelings had, till it was as fiery and passionate as they were.

He stopped only then, pulling back from her and offering her a hand to lead her to the bed.

There was no sound. Nothing but the two of them in the room, and the soft sound came when their lips met. At first, gentle and soft, the sound building as the heat of the kiss built. A quiet sigh that ended with a soft whimper, a heated groan. When he pulled away, he would have seen the heat in her eyes, the fire that was the desire that always burned for him just beneath the surface, reflected in her face.

Silently, she slipped her hand into his. She was smiling, though, as she followed him to the bed.

His smile was open, showing his own love and passion for her, his eyes nearly glowing gold as he walked her to the bed, continually looking at her. He looked.. happy. Supremely happy.

He got to the bed and pulled her to him, holding her and kissing her again, passionately and slowly pulling her onto the piece of furniture that was almost steeped in their love.

Once there, he continued to kiss her even as his whole body got into the act.

She walked with him over toward the bed, her steps slow and measured. She wasn't hesitant, she just wasn't in any rush. Tonight... this had been a big decision. Not on her part, since she had waited, wanted, longed for it for ages. But it was something huge, something more special than anything he could have given her, and it wasn't a small thing. Not for the Toreador that she walked with now. She wanted to relish it. She wanted the moment to last.

She would never tell him, he would never know, how much she had wanted this.

He pulled her into his arms, and she slipped into them. Just as easily, just as happily, as she had placed her hand into his, as happily as she had followed him to the bed. Her hands gently let go of his, sliding up his arms, all the way up until they rested at his shoulders. She slid onto the bed, actually on top of him, her thighs parting so that she could slide into his lap. Every motion gentle, every move slow and meant to make the moment last. When her mouth met his, it was warm and soft, one hand sliding up over his neck from his shoulder, to cup his cheek. Her mouth parted, enough to let the tip of her tongue free itself, to slide gently over his lip. She wouldn't force him to deepen the kiss, but she would test it, to see if he wanted her to, to see if he would let her. Her head tilted slightly, her eyes drifting closed... so special. Each touch of him, the feel of him, was so special... and somehow, right now, with one simple gesture and a few simple words... so completely new.

It was strange but since he had asked her, since she had agreed, he felt more real, more alive and more calm than he had in..months. Maybe longer. It was hard for him to tell. There was a change everywhere in him. And it was right. He was just glad she had agreed.

The slipped onto the bed and she went on top, a position that seemed natural seemed right. On his lap, they kissed, his hand mirroring hers to cup her cheek, to hold her as they kissed. He deepened the kiss, not with a fiery need or a playful teasing, but almost reverently, as if this kiss meant something more. A promise, not of more kisses or more heat, but or a life of kisses, several lifetimes of them, together, forever entwined and true.

True. This was a moment of truth, of life, of being together, that would last. He wanted her. Wanted this. Wanted more. His kiss deepened and he treasured this moment, as their kiss deepened just as their lives were deepening, as two became one.

She enveloped him. Rose above him and held him. But he could hold her here, as well, like one might a child. And that's what this was about. It wasn't about who was above who, it wasn't about her being in his lap. It was that they were together, that it was her in his lap, that it was him beneath her.

Her hands were gentle, cupping his cheeks as he deepened the kiss. There was a soft sigh from her, a sound of pleasure, a sound of joy. It wasn't sharp, though, it wasn't full of lust or need. It was a much more pure sound than that. One of love, one of togetherness, one of just plan happiness. She didn't move to take him, didn't move to slide him inside of her. There was time for that.

For now, there was something else, something more, for the Tzimisce. Her mouth trailed away from his, warm, wet kisses that let her lips move against him, let her tongue taste his flesh. Both of her hands went into his hair, curling her fingers within. She pulled his head back gently, not tugging or pulling hard. Dragging it back, in a gentle motion. She said one word, just one: "Yours." As proof of her quiet declaration, he felt the sweet sting of her fangs piercing him, at the juncture of his neck and shoulder. She moaned as the taste of him flooded her mouth, gently pressing her hips against his in a gentle writhing motion. She had done this once before, only once, out of a sense of fear, of needing security. Now she did it out of love, out of need... not the same kind, though. She just wanted him, needed him, that much.

Her eyes drifted closed, and she drank deeply.

It was all about them, all about being together, about being one. It was all about..this. He knew she was the one that made him whole and when he kissed her he felt it.

She dragged back his head and he arched his neck enough to give her access, room..control. He felt the sting of hte fangs and gasped and then...heaven. He felt the pleasure race through him and he moaned hard, his throat,his entire body shivering from the pleasure of it. Of her. Of the kiss.

His eyes closed and his breathing quickened and his hands found the back o her head, gently just sinking into her soft golden hair.

He was hers....

It was more than that. She wasn't making him hers. Not right now. No, right now, as she drank of him, she was making herself his. She held him, held the Kiss, feeling him shiver and writhe from the pleasure. She knew what he felt, knew what coursed through him. It rushed through her, as much as the coppery blood slipped past her lips and down her throat.

And she held him, held the Kiss, until she felt the first grips of the emotions take hold. Slowly, reluctantly, she pulled her mouth away and ran her tongue across his warm flesh, closing the punctures left behind. She rose above him, up onto her knees, and whispered to him, pressing a soft kiss against his throat. Where her fangs had been moments before, her lips pressed. Her hands came around to cup his face, her voice soft in his ear.

"I love you. Thank you, my love."

And yet, he was hers more than ever. Yes, a bond was forming than locked her more onto him than ever before. But He remembered her words from.. so long ago. She wanted something to call hers, someone she could trust, someone she could believe, someone she could always count on that would be her special person, her special place. Someone that was hers first and always.

He had tried to be that, but there had been others to play with. None that he loved, but in her mind he knew, she thought she shared him. This night.. she would never have to share him again. He was hers. Her special someone. Her special place. Someone she could call her own always. The fact that she could bond herself as she planned to.. proved it. He was hers.

And now she was his. She kissed him and kissed her back so softly, sweetly.

"I love you too. You are most welcome, Mi Amor."

The way she moved over him, looked at him, told him everything he would ever need to know. She was his, truly his, and had been for quite some time. Thoughts of others? They weren't crossing her mind at the moment. In fact, from the moment that he had started undressing her, all thoughts of anyone or anything other than Estaban, her Toreador, her love, had fled.

She smiled at him, her body gently moving above him. She wasn't writhing, exactly, but she moved fluidly over him, her breasts pressing to his chest. She spoke quietly, this time almost reverently. "May I?" she asked, quietly. Almost shyly, though she didn't look particularly shy. She was asking him gently, if she could slide over him, if she could take him inside of her. It was probably the first time she had ever asked if she could. But she was asking, because right now, it meant more than other times.

No, this was not the time or place for anyone else. This was... some place sacred and special. No one could split this apart as long as they did not let them and he wasn't about to let anyone between them. She was all he needed and all he wanted. His. Ra'idah, Mihaela, Griselda. All names for a woman who had gone through so much but Somehow come out as the woman he loved more than anyone or anything. His heart.

She asked two words he had never heard from her and he simply nodded, letting her do as she wished, his eyes locked on hers as he felt her body against his so perfectly.

She rose, just as fluidly, over him. Her body was more relaxed now, more soft, than he was used to from her. Usually, in times like this, she was tense, taut as a bow string. So ready for him, so heated and so full of passion that nothing could sate it except for the touch, the feel, of the Toreador. Now, though, was something else. All too special, all to real, she wanted nothing more than to have him inside of her. But she was so much more relaxed, more welcoming... more giving... than usual.

Her hand found him. She knew he liked the feel of her against him when she didn't warm herself, so she didn't bother to warm herself. The chilled touch, that she knew he liked. Her hands stroked him once... twice... then held him steady as she started to gently lower herself over him. Her eyes nearly drifted shut, but she held them partially open, so that he could see her, could see her eyes... see what she felt when he slid inside of her.

Her lips were parted softly, the quiet sigh escaping. And still the feel of her hand around him, holding him for her to slide so very slowly downward. Inch by inch, taking him inside of her in a slow, rolling motion of her hips. The sound of her sigh was the only sound in the room, until her hand moved, letting her slide him the rest of the way into her. Here, she was warm, almost hot, even. So slick and ready for him, and yet gripping him with the silken muscles inside of her until their hips met. Her head fell back, her hands moving up to his shoulders, to hold her steady, to let her grip at him in her pleasure. She shuddered once, followed by a quiet whimper as he filled her, and for the moment, she was still.

The feel of everything was so different and yet so right. She stroked him softly, a new trick she was using more and more. To tell the truth he rather liked the way she so comfortably grabbed him and did as she wished, almost as if the appendage was hers as much as his. And truly, maybe it was.

His eyes looked into hers, watching her carefully as she lowered herself ever so slowly. It was an amazing feeling between her hand and the feeling of her ever so slowly taking him. His eyes stayed on her but a soft sigh escaped his lips and slowly became a moan.

He arms went around her and pulled her chest against her and he arched back at the joy of the feeling, at the incredible heat, her heat that enveloped him. No words seemed appropriate. Just his sighs and moans, and to touch her as much as possible.

When her hips were pressed to his, she shivered, once. It was a quiet pleasure, this time, though she gripped at him both inside of her, and her hands at his shoulders. She bit her lip, looking almost shy, when his arms went around her. But it wasn't shyness... it was that smile that told him she had nothing that she wouldn't give him. She was more than just happy... she was overjoyed.

She went to him, arching against him and letting her breasts rub over his chest. She shuddered to feel him, so warm against her, and she couldn't help but whimper. Finally, though, her eyes drifted shut.

Never had she wanted anything so badly. Never had she needed it. In fact, she didn't even know how badly she needed it until right then. Right this moment. She had wanted it, wanted him to herself, for quite a long time. But she had put it in the back of her mind, as an impossibility, and had not visited it often. That road, she knew, would have only led to heartache for her. But he had offered, and now... she wasn't entirely sure how strongly she felt about it until she had taken him inside of her.

New. So very new. All of it was, and her eyes came open again, to look up at him. There was a look of pure, unadulterated adoration in her eyes and on her face as she watched him. She spoke quietly, little sounds from her lips. "So special... everything about this is so special. Take me, Estaban? Please? Make me yours?"

Her eyes drifted shut and so did his. The feeling of the two of them, joined, together was somehow perfect, and yet he wanted more. He wanted it to never end. This was a symbol of their new life and it would not end either, not if he could do anything about it.

"She had her eyes open one second before his reopened, so that she could see the joy written across his face. His eyes opened and the smile in them was also written across his face. She spoke and he answered, softly.

"Everything about you is special. Yes, together. Mine."

He started to move as he held her, his hips lowering and raising in slow powerful thrusts that were somehow gentle as well.

Her moans weren't moans. They were whimpers, but of the sweetest kind. They weren't whimpers of need or of pain, they were whimpers of pleasure. Small, tiny sounds that he almost never heard from her. There was so much that was so special about tonight, and she couldn't bring herself to shatter the delicacy of the moment with louder sounds.

Her hands at his shoulders gripped him, held tightly to him as she leaned forward. Far enough to let him move easily, to let him slide inside of her, in and out as he wished. Still, she trembled, shivered, gripping at him with the heat that was both so soft and so strong.

"Yours..." was the quiet whisper from her, though her mouth found his throat. She kissed him there, letting him feel the faint brush of her tongue against him as she tasted him again. She wanted that, the memory of his taste on her tongue in this, such a special time. "Always... yours..." Her eyes had drifted shut again while she shivered, letting him feel her reaction, what he did to her. "Take me... I love to feel you..."

His own sighs came more freely than ever, softer, different. She had seen bits of him like this, but rarely this relaxed, this confident, this.. happy. In showed in every movement, every sigh, every touch which was suddenly sweet and .. well it was almost as if he did not have to think at all and could just be with here, whatever came up and no thought given to his touches.

His tongue moved to touch hers as well, to taste her. her eyes shut and he kiss each one softly, passionately before finding her mouth again.

"Always mine. ... And I always yours."

He turned one leg just enough so she could feel the scar, the brand burned into his skin long healed but as fresh and bright as the first day and it always would be.

"Always yours."

The delicate little sounds that came from her continued. She was so gentle with every movement, with each brush of her body against his. Her eyes came open, looking up at him with her head tilted as he moved his leg. As he let her brush against that little sign, the little symbol burned into his flesh. Her mouth was partially open, letting her make those soft sounds, though her lips brushed over his once... twice... then again before she answered him.

"You want... same...?" she asked. They were quiet words, little whispers, her arms sliding gently over his shoulders. Wrapping her arms around his neck, feeling him there. This... this was a time she wanted to remember, and she would memorize the feel of him, right here, right now, as he moved with her. She could feel him sliding deep inside of her, causing her to shiver... and realized that she likely wasn't making much sense, with her words. She bit her lip, let the shudder wash through her, and tried again. "You want me... to bear... same mark? Yours?"

There. That was better. At least, she thought it was. It made more sense to her, anyway. She leaned close, enough so that she could kiss him again, her tongue lightly brushing his lip, before it tasted him. Letting him taste her, the rest of her so soft and relaxed. He was bringing her pleasure, but it was much more gentle now than it usually was. It was even more gentle, even, than when they made love. There was something distinctly different about it, as if the very atmosphere of the room knew that this time, there was so much more.

She brushed against him and he felt her flesh so sweet and cool against him. It took a moment for him to understand what she was asking, so sweet and tender in his arms. They moved in such a wonderful synchronicity, together and some how perfect. Then she continued and he understood.. and at least better.

She kissed him and returned it, in the same way, in the way it should be answered. This was different, was A hand came up, catching her hand, the one with the ring on it. He kissed the finger even as he continued, never stopping.

"I bear... your ring, you wear... mine. Your tells... all the world... Mine is for... your eyes only...."

He stopped talking and licked his lips, though nothing else changed.

"You can... bear my mark..... if you... wish me to... wear your ring.... I am happy... as things are."

And he kissed her finger again, and then.. her mouth.

When he moved her hand, she linked her fingers with his. She kissed him, her tongue caressing his as she moved over him. It was such quiet pleasure, so gentle, that she didn't pause or stop. Her leg brushed against his mark again, that little scar that was left behind... her mark, her claim, on him. His was different, just a small piece of jewelry that she wore on her finger, and she tilted her head back and looked at him.

"I will give you... a ring. When I find one... I want for you." She didn't pause, though, her other hand coming up to cup the side of his neck, to his cheek, as she moved again. Her breasts pressed against his chest, just a gentle pressure there as she kissed his chin, then his cheeks, then his nose. "But if you... want... I would be... honored... to wear your mark. Please?" she whispered, her body gently moving over his. She met his eyes, and there was a flash of fear, at the thought of what pain might come from such a mark... but it was gone quickly. "Please make me yours?"