A late night visit to the beach(Open) - Bathtub Beach

She really was perfect and he never tired of looking at her. Or touching her. One of his hands found that perfect stomach of her and rubbed it lightly back and forth.

"No Ra'idah. I had thought it simply your kindness toward a young and at least once reckless man."

He looked in the distance for a little.

"Ra'i, How many mates have you had?"

For a moment, her eyes darkened. Then it was replaced with a smile, gentle and sweet. She ran her hand over his shoulder gently again.

"Mates, sweet one? There has been only one."

"Forgive me if my question brought up hurtful memories Ra'idah. I would not hurt you."

He smiles at the gentle touches and sweetness of the moment.

"What do you do with your early mornings? I would not have guessed you for a watcher of television."

She laughed softly, tugging his robe even more open. She was looking at him, clearly, and slid a bit closer to him.

"For one as old as I am, sweet one, there are many hurtful memories. You did no wrong."

She ran her hand over his chest again.

"You may be surprised, sweet one. It is the only way I can keep in touch with the world in this time. Yes, I watch television."

She rolled, until she was looking at him fully. "But for a time, we will do what you wish. We have done what I wish. How would you like to spend the rest of the evening, sweet one?" Her smile was infectious.

"And perhaps, in time, you will see fit to become a mate, rather than a simple companion."

He smiled turning one hip so that the robe fell mostly away so that she could see most of everything.

"I have a feeling you will often be a surprise to me. As you may remember, I like surprises. I am enjoying our first night tremendously. Maybe I am merely selfish but I look forward to truly knowing you."

That smile, it got to him much like her eyes, her voice and her touch.

"You may have your news, as long as you do not mind me exploring your body at my leisure. As for the future, one day at a time. I have not even received your mark yet. "

She took her time looking over him. Her hand reached up, caressing his face gently.

"I said we may do as you wish, sweet one. All you need do is ask."

She looked amused, tilting her head to watch him for a moment.

"I realize that asking for what you want may take a bit of getting used to. Especially when it is not only done in play. But you will grow accustomed to it soon enough." She leaned forward, kissed his chin lightly.

"And as I said. You will bear my mark when you are ready for such."

He smiles at Ra'idah and watches her.

"You are right of course, I am unused to this. But in many ways I said what I wanted. You are an amazing woman. To know you will take time. And to be honest, some part of me just wants to lay hear as you watch your tv and to play with you , to explore you. Does that sound terribly mundane to you?"

She shook her head as she looked at him.

"No, it does not sound mundane. But it seems unfair to me, somehow wrong, to spend tonight, this night, watching television. My attention is yours, Esteban."

Esteban smiles and slowly bend over and kisses her softly. He pulls back and looks into her eyes, those incredible eyes. And he shrugs off the robe completely. He bends over and kisses her again, just as softly and gently but with out releasing, the slow kiss lasts for several minutes, tender and and sensual.

"You are right. Tonight is a special night. And it is unfair to you and to me and most of all to this night to spend it any other way than in each others arms. The first time was an affirmation of our agreement. The second time was an confirmation of vows. Let this be our celebration of each other."

He kissed her again as softly and slowly as before, rolling half onto her and reaching a gentle hand around her.

She smiled as he shrugged off the robe. Hers was still around her, but only by virtue of holding it onto her arms and shoulders. She kissed him gently, lingering, letting him hold her as long as he wished.

She smiled again as she ran her hand over his face, then over his shoulders. All of it was gentle.

"Yes, sweet one. Let us enjoy one another."

She lay back, looking up at him as his arm went around her. Again she smiled, and reached for him again.

She brought her mouth to his, and her gentle explorations began again. She closed her eyes, a quiet sigh of contentment coming from her. At least he had not asked again about her mate.

There was no rush or hurry. There was no need or want. This was about getting to know a woman so different from any he had ever known. This was about touch and smell and taste and sight and sound. This was about them being together.

He smiled softly through lips that slowly explored hers. He lay against her softly, and slowly felt her through his skin, one leg moving against hers with no other agenda other that to feel her. His arm stayed around her holding her and feeling content with that.

Feeling secure, feeling safe, He opened his senses. He allowed his touch and taste and smell to open fully, giving him the ability to fully enjoy her.

She was cold. Beyond that, every touch, every taste, was perfect. Each line of muscle, her skin utterly flawless. Her hair was soft and thick, she smelled of violet and just the hint of vanilla.

The way she moved was also flawless, the muscles sharp and supple. She was strong, he knew that already. But she was strong in a way that also seemed somehow all woman, all perfection. She reached the peak of human perfection, and went even beyond that.

Her own senses seemed heightened, the woman's hands running over the warmth of his skin gently, exploring his own strength and the curvature of his bones and muscles. Her eyes were closed as she lay there, completely unworried about him, unworried that he might cause her harm. She had no reason to think such, even if Esteban was another Kindred.

She made another soft sound, a quiet encouragement to the touches, the sensations, that he would bring to her. She let him explore her, made no move to resist. At all.

Esteban was delighted. He still kept one arm around her, holding her. The other one roamed gently across the perfect cold skin. The electrifying cold combined with the beyond normal beauty to almost make him think of the old stories of the Ice queen. Except this woman had already shown her passion and her temper.

He scent was amazingly feminine. But then, the more he saw of her, the more he realized she embodied the perfect female. Even when she took control over him, became dominant, she did not become masculine, just supremely female.

And now, laying utterly relaxed in a bed, behind closed doors and reveled to him, she was the ultimate woman, almost more fantasy than reality. And he wanted to memorize every part of her, burn her last, smell and feeling into his brain.

The soft sound of encouragement was lovely, truly enticing. He let it float through his body but it did not make him speed up or become more excited.

Another slow kiss and then Esteban pulled back at looked at this woman. He bent back down and kissed her cheekbones on either side, then over her eyes, then just about them, the her forehead, these weren't cute kisses, bit soft and slow, like a blond man running his hand over someones face. Esteban was learning Ra'idah.

She seemed to be incredibly encouraging to his approach. She lay still beneath him, other than the occasional shift, or the slight sound of encouragement at a touch to a particularly sensitive area.

But she was most definitely female. With the cheekbones and eyes to match, as well as the cold skin, smooth and soft to the touch. She had shown him her strength, and now was the time for him to fully see the woman.

Everything about her seemed almost a contradiction. She was soft to the touch, lithe and distinctly female. But the muscles and strength she showed could far outweigh nearly any man. Yet she did not look like a bodybuilder, or even overly muscular.

And she was his.

She seemed to delight in his touch, her hands on his shoulders encouraging, though she was not guiding him now. She let him do as he would, and her chance would come later.

He noted each spot that received a moan, each spot sensitive to warrant remembrance. His lips worked down her hair line toward her ear, behind it. At the ear his tongue traced along the outside. Such a beautiful ear. Then soft slow kisses behind the ear, and down, around the neck.

She may be a contradiction but she was a perfect one. A beautiful, feminine perfect one. And his. They had dealt with that earlier. But now, as he played and tasted, memorized her skin inch by inch, there was no doubt. She was his.

And he was hers.

Every touch he used was to know her and would be used later to please her, to know the woman he had given himself to. It had been less than 8 hours since he had agreed to be hers. And he had already faced this fact. And now he was owning it, believing it, prepared for it. Actually warming to the idea. Tomorrow he might wake and have to deal with this again. But now, he was hers and delighting in it.

One hand started to moved into her hair, running through it and then moving lightly along her jaw line and down her throat.

She lay still for him, the only sounds in the room was the soft whisper of the fabric of bedclothes under them and robes surrounding them. She had a gentle smile on her face.

She had dealt with Toreador before, she knew how they worked. So she lay still for him, let him continue the ministrations of hands and mouth.

Each time he touched her in a particularly sensitive area, she would gasp, or arch, or moan softly. But she continued to lie still, letting him explore what he would of her.

All with that same gentle smile.

His mouth circled around her throat and he moved. He roll over and lay on top of her, his legs trapping one leg and his mouth moving slowly down her body.

He looked up at her face. With the exception of the moment where she a sound of pleasure comes from her, that same gentle smile has been focused on his the whole times. He knows this is for him, She is giving him this. A bonding present. And he accepts it quite happily.

Fingertips caress her arms, shoulders, hands. Lips find the the long swells that lead to her bosom, the valley in between, the sloped of the sides. All so intoxicating. And still goes on.

She shifted enough to let her leg be trapped by his. She continued to smile, and though her hand itched, even ached to touch him, she continued to lie still. It was not hard to imagine that she had been through something similar to this exploration before.

Perhaps at some point, she had been a model for someone?

Her slight sounds, the slight movements as her body arched to his hands and mouth, were the only true movements from her. She did not stop him; what else was this night for? She did writhe a little as his hands found her sides, but only slightly.

"Are you finding what you wish to find, sweet one?" she finally murmured, barely more than a whisper.

He noticed the smallest twitch threw senses still alive and awake to their fullest. A smile crossed his lips but nothing else. She was being so patient and she would be rewarded.

He was getting more arching, and the first wriggle. It gave him a thrill to know he could evoke these reactions out of someone so powerful and experienced.

"I am finding not just what I need but what I want. You are magnificent Ra'idah."

He continued lower, his lips found her nipples and the sensitive skin around it and he kissed them but it was the same soft gentle kiss. A memorization and then they moved on. His hands continue to trace her skin but one, as it traced her hand linked with it, fingers within fingers, warm and cold together.

She gave him the faintest of pressure against their linked fingers. An encouragement, a slight affection, then she was still again.

She kept her smile, though she did close her eyes as she arched when he pressed against her nipples. Sensitive flesh, and even now, to her long-dead nerves, caused a reaction.

"Thank you, Esteban," she murmured, and fell silent again as he continued his explorations.

He smiled at this.

"You are most welcome."

His mouth continued lower, down the rounding of her breasts, across the skin over the ribcage, and down toward her stomach. His hand returned the squeeze and then let go as both hands went underneath her and started to trace the contours or her back, fluttering over her spine, tracing the muscles and curves.

The amount of self control, especially in such a fiery, passionate woman.. it was more than surprising. He had used this several times before and many broke before getting below the neck. He was interested to know who had done this before to her. Would she make it to the end to enjoy what came from this?

The most movement that she made was to arch her back, allowing his fingers more room to flutter over her spine.

The trick to being an assassin was patience. Your target did not always come to you in a fiery frenzy. Sometimes, secrecy, privacy and patience was needed for just the right ... moment.

It served her well. She moaned, or arched to his fingers and mouth. But that was all. She let him continue his explorations, because of all the virtues that she knew, she did know patience. She was very much a fiery, passionate woman. He knew that much from their previous encounters.

But it only served to show him one very important thing.

He could never forget what she was at her core.

And at her core was a stone cold killer who could wait for minutes, hours, or even days and nights if need be for that one ... perfect ... moment.

As she arched, hands took advantage. the followed every curve, examining that which he couldn't see. He had done that before. Often times actually. Working in the dark or blind folded was not unusual.

His mouth explored her flat stomach, feeling the muscles underneath. Soft kisses. This was a pure pleasure for him. Soon it would be for her as well.

He thought of Ra'idah. An Assamite. The silent killers. She was strong and fast enough to be sure. He wondered if she was as fast as some of his clans speedsters. She was passionate and strong willed. She has a sense of pride and knew what she wanted. An amazing woman. She would be an amazing killer. And was proving to be an amazing lover.

Companion? He wondered. He could be true to one as she would find out. And he would give her something few received, no deception. He knew the uses of moods and manners, all manner of subterfuge. Lying without telling lies. His reactions in a situation like this were one of the easiest. In a social situation just barely more difficult. In a crucial situation...he could lie there too if need be.

But he would not. Not with her. She had said..Power, beauty, loyalty...and truth. So she would get the truth always.

His hands approached her waist and traced ever sharp bump in her spine, every soft inch as they headed down. And his mouth, having kissed below the crease of skin some called a button drifted down, kissing where a small patch of skin normally hidden by a skirt, just along the line of the hip.

She only shifted enough to give his hands better purchase. Just enough to give his mouth another part of her to explore.

Her eyes stayed closed. Those blue eyes that were likely somewhat disturbing. She kept them closed, with her mouth partially, softly open. She continued her soft inhalations, or the soft moans when he touched her sensitive places.

Oh, yes, she was a killer. She had not denied the fact. She seemed to revel in it, at least somewhat. But here, in this moment, she was simply a woman. A cold woman, but one finely toned and beautifully skinned.

Her hands still above her, did not seek purchase on his shoulders, did not try to pause him at any place. They curled into the soft bedclothes here and there, but never strong, and beyond that, she let him have his way with her.

His hands were now caressing her side, flowing from the end of her spine, along the rise of her buttocks to the opposite side, then flowing up her sides along the tender flesh between hips and ribcage, soft finger tips followed by warm palms.

His mouth continued down, kissing the lower midsection. So part received more attention than any other. Each inch of skin received a long slow kiss, a small taste, whether it was the top of her thigh where it joined the midsection, of the soft skin in between. He continued, even to the sensitive areas most feminine, changing nothing in his manner.

He knew there was much he had yet to see of this woman. He barely knew her. That was not true. He did NOT know her. He had a few facts, a few words, two short session of ... fun? lovemaking? sex? None of these labels seemed to fit. But the truth is he did not know her. But then it looked like he had quite a bit of time for that.