the nightclub feels alive, like something warm and feverish. everything covered in a hue of red from the lights, the club air thick with cigarette smoke. music runs through her, bass thrumming. bodies are packed against another. the smell is nearly overwhelming, a blend of sweat, perfume, and alcohol. nym takes it all in the movement they arrive.
she knows the only reason they are here is because vincent indulges her as he always does. he does not love the packed bodies, the flickering of neon lights. the gaudy decorations of what mortals perceive as vampire decor taken from medias they consumed. nymeria found it ironic, the pair of them not the only monsters among those with fake fangs and what they think is a desire for death. immortality has always been beautiful from the outside. she separates from vincent, a kiss that sinks fangs into his bottom lip. nymeria passes through crowd of bodies, knowing vincent will have lingering eyes upon her from both secluded with silk curtains.
her teasing had already begun before they left home. black velvet clings to her. it is not the shortness that will be his undoing, but instead the way the material plunges low, revealing the line of chest to soft of her stomach. she knows what the sight of it does to her husband, and it is a miracle she has even made it out with dress in one piece. it is not only his eyes upon her, lingering attention upon her as she presses in dance floor. passing touches that linger a second too long, knowing exactly what it does to vincent. all of this, the moment they stepped out from their home, a plan to see how far nymeria would be able to push him.
it is easy to lose herself in deep bass of the music. it is constant, the way she feels his eyes upon her. the longer the night goes, she knows his composure will slip. already, nymeria knows that look of restraint, the way his jaw tightens when someone's hand brushes against her. she could stop here, and it would be enough. she should return to him, but instead she allows herself to play the game a little reckless. she adores the way he watches her, what he holds back beneath all that restraint. she lingers on the dance floor, allowing strangers to press against her beneath red hot lights. she feels beautiful under their attention, though it is not theirs that she craves.
someone moves too close, a hand slipping to the curve of her waist. mouth near her ear, the strong smell of liquor. slurred words, muttered together about her body. everything shifts, and nymeria knows the booth will be empty before she even has to glance towards it. she finds him, the way familiar and cold hand closes around her wrist. there are no words spoken, scene is enough to make stranger disappear. fear is not what pulses through nym, but instead a heated and dangerous excitement.
his hand does not release her until they are tucked back into what little privacy the booth offers. she waits for him to be seated first, before she joins him, straddling lap. that look of possessiveness, nym knows exactly what she does to him. though this is their own word tucked away from the rest of the club, her glance out finds occasional eyes upon them. it only continues to warm the desire between her thighs. her hips alive in the grinding movement against his. the hard length of his cock pressed against her through fabric, and still it earns a whimper. ❝ makes me yours. ❞