#wampyrr

[minamxrray]

@wampyrr continued from ( x )

Wide eyes silently observed the horrid familiarity in the way the vampire toyed with the lace finely decorating the pale material of her nightgown. Little frame only squirming from his touch when fingertips brushed a touch too close to her breast for Mina’s own comfort.  Dracula had tortured her in several ways, all equally barbaric in their methods against such a dainty little creature. Yet, her purity had remained untouched, and up to this very moment, the monster had expressed no interest in tainting that aspect of her soul.  Feeling cheeks bloom with a touch of scarlet, Mina drew the covers further up over her torso at the mere thought of Jonathan speaking the words this monster had just spouted.  “Jonathan is a gentleman, he would never speak to me in such a vulgar way. What you may deem sheepish, I deem respectful.”

[mourniings-blog]

@wampyrr     /     cont.

Aleera was wrong. When Marishka realized the full fault of what she did, the true magnitude of her sin against her husband, she’d confessed. Unable to meet his eyes and shaking in her metaphorical boots, perhaps, but she’d confessed. A coward doesn’t confess. Aleera was wrong.

And then the fear comes back as if her moment of bravery meant nothing when he raises his hand. Immediately, she cowers, falls back a step, ready for the blow to land yet kept waiting for a blow that never comes. Brown eyes peek through the arms shielding her face. He’s ... smiling? No, not smiling, but amused. He finds something about this amusing. For one reason or another, this irks her but not enough to cause a scene. Not when she’s just escaped a lashing.

No longer cowering, now curious, she wonders what her husband has in mind, what twisted plan is curling those dark thoughts. Whatever it is, he needs her. He needs her. She will prove to him how useful she is. “Yes, my love, I serve you. What is it you need of me?”