Lover

A OneShot

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He couldn't quite believe his luck standing in the same room as the impossibly beautiful witch. Of course, the evening's events had been even more preposterous.

His master storming The Underground Vampire City of Sydney had been an act one could only describe as insanity. (Which as it turned out was a rather accurate way of describing his master). The storming followed by then demanding gifts? Also insane.

Apparently his master had a longstanding dispute with the Vampire Master of Sydney, known simply as Julian. His master had decided this evening he would take an opportunity to terrorise the city of vampires in retribution for some slight or other. His master had decided that after storming the underground city, he would then make demands of the city in atonement. This was evidently more insanity, but who was he to question his master?

It didn't stop there of course, additional insanity ensued when his master demanded Romulus also be given a gift. He was a guard, muscle, somebody you didn't pay attention to. It had shocked him when his master had asked Julian for a gift for him. When the Master of Sydney had turned to him and asked Romulus what he had wanted, he couldn't contain his surprise.

Romulus had given this some thought - it wasn't often one was able to obtain a gift from a master vampire, and so he wracked his brain for what he could possibly want. Money, land, jewels? Not interested. Weapons? He had plenty of those.

Every time his mind drew back to the beautiful woman he had encountered at the entrance of The Underground. She had no idea who he was or what his reputation was, but when they had stormed the city, she stood ready to fight him. Julian had called her 'Lena'. Lena, beautiful hazel eyes, gorgeous auburn hair, the most flawless face, pouty full lips and a body a man could lose himself in.

He was stunned by her strength, grace and sheer beauty. She was resplendent in the way only witches could be. His mind continuously drew back to her, and that's how he found himself asking for the witch. Specifically, just one night with her.

He should have felt horrified asking for an evening alone with a woman he had no acquaintance with. Did he really think she would come to him willingly?

Of course, he was not the sort of man to force himself onto a woman. The chances were low that she would accept, even lower that she would join him in bed of her own choice. In fact, he suspected they might simply spend the evening talking. Romulus steeled himself for that possibility and found he didn't mind the idea of spending an entire evening just talking to her. She had the kind of face one could watch for hours.

Still, a small part of him hoped she might want to enjoy his touch.

He wasn't ugly by any means. He just clearly wasn't a city vampire, unlike those of Julian's clan. All of them were handsome or beautiful, attractive, sensual. She would have her choice of such appealing men. She would not have a need for someone like him.

Previous lovers had called him 'rugged', 'angular', and on one occasion, 'chiselled'. Romulus suspected the striking witch would hardly be moved to fits of desire over rugged.

Yet here they both were, and that must have meant something. She had at least agreed to spend the evening in the same room. She stood at the entrance of the door, tentative and shy. He had hoped she had come of her own choice, but knew it was more than likely that Julian had persuaded her or even forced her hand.

He wanted to set her at ease, and so stood and nodded to her and tried to think of something kind or normal to say. How did people speak these days?

"Good evening," he said softly. That seemed right, or in the very least, polite.

"Hi," Lena stepped forward into the room, and arm crossed over her body, hand clasping her other wrist.

"Thank you for joining me this evening,"

The witch simply nodded, her hazel eyes surveying the room. When they came to rest on Romulus, he was pleased to notice she didn't seem repulsed or angry like he thought she might have been. Lena seemed curious, which was a place he could work from. Maybe she might let him touch her after all.

"Can I get you a refreshment?" he offered to the tray next to him, "tea, brandy...?"

"Wine," she made unwavering eye-contact with the vampire, and walked closer, taking a seat on the lounge, "the pinot noir will do," she nodded towards the dark bottle next to the brandy.

"Of course," he fixed her a glass as she made herself comfortable on the lounge. Romulus leaned to hand her the glass, which she accepted with both hands, her warm fingers brushing his large ones. He marvelled at how such a sensation sent desire right through him.

Romulus took a seat opposite her, watching her take a sip of the wine and relaxing back into the couch. Lena seemed peculiarly confident and relaxed for someone who had potentially been coerced into the situation. He berated himself, he should not have done it this way, he should have asked for something else. She must have been sickened by the sight of him; he was more beast than man. Of course if she was disgusted she hid it well. But then, Romulus supposed, when you were around vampires, you had to get good at masking your true feelings. He had learnt that the hard way.

"So, Romulus," she started, and then paused "Can I call you Romulus? Or do you prefer another name?"

"Romulus is appropriate"

She smiled, something had amused her, he wasn't sure what but was relieved to see her smile.

"Romulus," she repeated, "I'm surprised I'm here."

"As am I," he couldn't stop himself. His answer seemed to shock her. She cocked her head to the side, gaze assessing him.

Romulus wondered what she was thinking in that head of hers, and what she saw when she looked at him. Possibly the same thing everyone saw, a tall, fierce warrior, no doubt horrified by the array of scars and tattoos which she would be able to see peeking out of the top of his shirt and covering his hands. At least his face didn't have too many of those, he supposed. Just two thin scars trailing from brow to cheekbone, where a sword had cut him so long ago.

The attacker's intention had been to blind him, but luckily his assailant was not as good an aim as he, and instead got the side of his face just missing the eye. He watched her assessment carefully, not detecting any sense of disgust or horror.

"Why are you surprised?" she finally asked after a long pause, "You asked for me, didn't you?"

"I mean to say, I'm surprised you agreed to come."

"I suppose," she nodded and smiled a curious little half smile which tugged at the corner of her mouth, "I guess I was just intrigued by you. I'm curious about the kind of man who uses his chance to get anything, and I mean anything, from the master of a city, and decides he wants to spend an evening with a woman he hardly knows. A witch no less."

He nodded, watching her as she continued to talk.

"You know you could have asked for money, or a position or a small country's worth of cheese." She finished, one shapely eyebrow raised at him.

"I don't have much use for cheese."

"I suppose not," She was laughing at him again; he had done something obviously silly. He didn't mind though, as long as she kept looking at him and talking to him. She seemed to relaxed in her body as she took another sip of the drink and placed it on the side table next to her.

"Where is your name from, Lena?"

"I was named after my grandmother- I'm lucky to share the name with her. She was a strong and powerful witch, she ruled over our coven. She was also kind and loving. But definitely the kind of witch who could pack a wallop if you messed with her. I'd like to think I take after her." The witch replied, her gaze falling to the ground in front of her.

"Was she beautiful like you?" he asked.

Her eyes snapped up back to his. That seemed to startle her, possibly it was the wrong thing to say. Foolish vampire that he was. Something about her made him say everything and anything that crossed his brain. He could have kicked himself!

"I'm sorry," he apologised, "That was forward of me."

Lena nodded, a small smile returning to her pretty mouth, "It was, but I liked it," she shrugged, "Although not as forward as asking a woman to spend the night with you."

"I've offended you, I'm sorry," He said as gently as he could, "Please, you don't need to stay. If you leave now, there will be no ill will."

"No, I'm fine," she replied, reaching to take a sip of the wine, "I kind of want to stay, actually."

"You do?" Romulus had hoped he had managed to hide any trace of desperation in his voice.

"Sure," she nodded, "I mean, I'm not used to men asking me to spend the night with them. Well - not in such a polite way, anyway." She took another sip of the wine, "Your modern counterparts just send pictures of themselves naked." She shook her head and smiled, "It's pretty disgusting actually, and a little bit sad that dating has been reduced to pictures of people's anatomy."

He was genuinely confused, "But why would a man woo a woman like you so crassly?"

Lena laughed again, "You need to stop with the compliments, you're going to make my head swell up and there won't be any coming back from it," she looked to the side, her face flushing sweetly, "So then, how might you woo a woman like me?" her eyes returning to his.

She was flirting with him! Romulus couldn't believe it, but he was certain she was flirting.

"I haven't the faintest idea," Romulus answered truthfully.

"You have no plan?"

"I have no plan," he nodded, "As I said, I'm surprised you're here, I'm surprised we are even having a conversation. I was worried Julian had coerced you."

"No, he just asked." She shrugged, "the Master of Sydney isn't usually one for sex trafficking."

Romulus pondered this information for a bit, "So you are here of your own will?"

"Yes," she said taking another sip of the wine, "you really seem thrown by that."

She had read him so easily, he cursed himself for being so open.

Something about her nature drew him to be honest with her. No doubt it would be his undoing.

"Not many women would be brave enough to step in a room alone with me. You can see what I look like, can't you?" He asked, half joking.

"20/20 vision," she replied, "My eyes are perfect."

All of you is perfect, he wanted to say. But stopped himself. He wished he could drink, or have something he could do with his hands instead of just having them in his lap. He felt restless and awkward.

"I had forgotten to ask if you were courting someone else. Are you?" he found himself asking, "I should not have presumed,"

He wanted to punch himself as soon as it came out of his mouth, and briefly pondered whether the witch had somehow managed to put some kind of truth curse on him when he wasn't looking.

"No," she stated, "I'm not the kind of woman who would agree to spend a night with a man if I was dating someone else. Even for a brooding, sexy vampire like you."

That threw him, she was flirting again, and he didn't know what to do with himself, except nod, hoping she took the silence for masculine poise, rather than shyness.

"Are you courting someone?" she asked suspiciously, raising that damned eyebrow at him again.

"No," was his stark reply. He didn't want to tell her anything further than that. The fact was he was alone and not by choice. He seemed to be unable to attract the fairer sex for more than an evening. The idea of courting a woman was almost entirely foreign. The women he seemed to encounter were either too terrified of him, or tended towards more genteel looking men.

"Good," Lena said, her eyebrow lowering.

"Good?" he was confused.

"Good," she nodded, "I don't like unfaithful men." Lena frowned, "I've been with too many of them."

"I can't imagine what kind of man might be unfaithful to you," it had slipped out, but he was genuinely perplexed. A woman who looked the way she did should have men throwing themselves at her, queuing up just to talk to her, not being unfaithful. That did not signify.

Lena just smiled, standing up to refill her glass. He stood with her, and took the glass.

"Allow me," he said, "Would you like the wine again?"

"Sure," She sat back down, she seemed fidgety all of a sudden, playing with her hands. He fixed her the drink and handed it back to her. She clasped the glass with one hand, and her other hand came to touch his hand.

"Do these tattoos cover your entire body?" she brushed her finger across the swirl on his hand before taking her own hand back. He pulled back, realising that standing over her was possibly intimidating.

"May I?" he nodded towards the seat next to her.

"Of course," she smiled. He took the seat next to her and rolled up the sleeve to reveal more of the tattoo swirls which covered parts of his arm.

She put the wine glass down and without hesitation traced the swirls up his arm with her finger tips, apparently enjoying the design. She didn't look terrified in the least. Most people of his acquaintance were horrified by them, and that's what they were supposed to be. They were markers of his masculinity and his tribe. A tribe long gone from this world.

"You're Iceni," she drew her attention away from the tattoos and looked at him with a light in her eyes. She was so close, he could have pulled her too him and kissed her on that beautiful mouth. But he resisted.

"Yes," he eyed her curiously, what did she know of his people?

"Sorry", she tucked her hands underneath her, "I'm being rude."

He shrugged, and then added, "you can touch me however you please."

Her smile returned and he felt his heart leap. He knew then he would allow her anything, just to keep the smile on her face. She leaned to touch the opening of his shirt neck and gently pulled the shirt down, peeking at the tattoos which lay there. Her long fingers were sending thrills through his neck and up his skull. She had a magic touch which seemed to cause his body to burn in desire for her. She must not have realised how she moved him, leaning closer to inspect. He could feel her breath tickling his neck. Any closer and she'd practically be in his lap.

"Do they cover your entire body?" she asked.

"Not all of it, most of my arms, chest and back. I have a few on my legs and one on the back of my head, but my hair does cover it."

She continued touching the little swirls she could find, coming to reach for his other hand and following the pattern on the back of it.

"Did you get all of these tattoos at the same time? Was it painful?" Lena continued her delicate perusal of the swirls up his arm. He tried to still himself with every fibre of his being so as not to scare her.

"No, they were given at different times, they have different meanings. And yes- terribly painful. Although one comes to embrace pain after a while." He replied.

She pulled away, her hands coming to rest in her lap. He willed them to come back and touch more of his skin. The little caresses of her fingers had been the sweetest and softest touch he had experienced in a long time and he craved it again.

"Do you have any tattoos?" he asked, trying to steer his thoughts away from the idea of taking her in his arms.

She nodded and looked a bit embarrassed, "Nothing gorgeous like yours though." It was funny, but he had never thought of his tattoos as 'gorgeous' before. "I'm afraid mine was the result of a drunken 18th birthday, and not a sacred ritual."

He smiled then, "May I see it?"

"Ok," she nodded, pink tinging her cheeks, "but you have to promise not to laugh."

"I swear," he said, intrigued.

She turned around and gently smoothed her shoulder strap down to reveal a beautiful expanse of smooth skin. His mouth felt dry, and he could feel his cock pulsing. She continued to push the dress down further, passed her shoulder blade. There is was, a little rainbow unicorn, maybe the size of a large coin.

He couldn't stop his hand from tracing the little thing on her shoulder, marvelling at how smooth her skin was, and how warm it felt. He understood, then, her need to trace his tattoos, he felt hypnotised by its edges and colours. More then that, he felt the ridiculous urge to kiss it. He smoothed a thumb over it, admiring how it almost seemed to dancing on her skin as she breathed.

The moment seemed to grow longer, as he contemplated the little tattoo, wondering how it was that a seemingly innocuous little thing could stir so much heat in him.

Her skin, he noticed seemed to become gooseflesh as he continued to trace the outline of the tattoo. She turned to look at him over her exposed shoulder. He turned his attention away from the little unicorn and stilled. He was shocked to see her eyes half-lidded and glazed with yearning. Lust for his touch, it couldn't be. He wasn't sure exactly how it happened, but one moment he was touching her little tattoo and the next, she had turned around, placed a tentative hand on his chest and pressed her lips against his.

It was a moment of pure symphony, her lips were exquisitely soft and gentle against his, moving in a slow exploratory fashion over his. He tentatively brought an arm around her waist, pulling her into his lap, his other hand coming to cup her face, as he deepened the kiss.

Romulus was pleased to notice that she tasted of the wine. He couldn't remember the last time he had tasted wine, relishing the smooth and fruity flavour. She seemed moved by his kiss, her mouth opening to his caresses with his tongue. He slipped his tongue inside and she utterly melted, moaning into his mouth.

He felt his control hanging by a thread. He couldn't figure out what was going on - did she want him? Was this just out of duty? He needed time to think on this, but was too enraptured by the sensation of having her in his arms. He had to get some space.

He reluctantly pulled back, annoyed with himself for having to part from her intoxicating lips. He surveyed her face, she was flushed, her pouty lips parted and red from all the kissing, her eyes half-lidded and glazed. He smoothed his hand from her cheek down her neck and shoulder, pulling off his lap and returning her back to her seat.

"What are you doing?" he asked, he knew his voice had come out deeper than he had intended. He could feel the persistent urge of his manhood pressing against the seam of his pants. He willed himself to calm, he needed to gather himself, the woman before him clouding him.

She seemed to snap out of her daze, and swallowed, "I wanted to kiss you, so I did."

"Why?"

"Why did you want to spend the night with me?"

"I find you enchanting" he replied honestly, "But I don't think I am the kind of man you desire."

She frowned, "What do you know about my desires?"

"In my experience women who look like you much prefer the company of men who look like Julian,"

She nodded, "I suppose that's true in some cases, but sometimes women who look like me look for other things in a man."

"Like what?" he asked, wanting so desperately to pull her underneath him and kiss her again.

"Like their hands, for instance." She said, reaching out to touch his hand. He looked at how much smaller hand hand was on his. She turned his hand over, trailing her nails on his large palm. The interaction sent tremors through his body, he closed his hand over hers, engulfing it in his.

"Hands are very important," Lena continued, "They tell you a lot about a man."

"And what do my hands tell you about me?" he asked as he opened his large hand, releasing hers. Except, instead of taking her hand back like he expected, she trailed her hand up his arm, and smoothed it over his shoulder, and up to cup his cheek.