yay sexy writing

YOUR EYES ARE THE SIZE OF THE MOON

YOU COULD 'COS YOU CAN SO YOU DO
WE'RE FEELING SO GOOD, JUST THE WAY THAT WE DO

Silence filled the surrounding air, swelling like a vacuum that whipped the corners of the couches and tables that filled the common room. The beauty across the room, so pale, so dark, so utterly surreal, stood motionless in the dim, her smile widening and worldly, jadeite eyes sweeping over his form, taking in the muscles and flesh, flesh stretched tightly over dramatically defined bones. She found him intoxicating, he knew - he could feel it in the air, read it from her captivated expression, which she was definitely not trying to hide.

Finally, her brilliant, glassy orbs flew to his own, her voice oozing with a lofty grace, yet thick and deep, like a low purr. 'Am I interrupting ...?' she said, her fine brows arched curiously. 'Though what's done is done and so ... it shouldn't matter' she said dismissively. Her body began to move, her slender, seamless legs moving into the light of the window. The flesh that stretched over her, as fine as silk, was luminescent in the light; it shimmered like deep pools of honeyed milk, the shadows sweeping dark lines toward the curve of her thighs. His eyes roamed over her, taking in the curved hips the rose into such a small and supple waist made more defined by the silken bow. The line of her dress emphasized the smooth valley between her breasts and tightened to reveal perfectly arched clavicles, so firm and defined. She advanced slowly, her pouty lips giving way to perfect, small teeth, set above a child's jawline. He felt the pads of her fingertips pricking against the smooth air as she lifted one dainty palm, and he watched her face lighten as the long digits pulled at a grouping of long strands. Her face changed, as if at first she had not realized what she had done, and then she grinned at him, gaze daring him to challenge what she'd done.

Dorian stared, the ends of his ruddy lips pulled up into a subtle, knowing smile. It was not the first time a person was moved to tug at his coppery strands, though each time made him smile. He moved closer, taking one slow step, the air drafting about them, and cupped a finger beneath her chin. Lifting her gaze higher, he looked down on her, only inches between them, and gave a wide, devilish grin. 'But of course it matters', he said, his voice lifting in falling in the aged French of his days, a deep burr that with the added charm and lull of a centuries old vampire would move the strongest of humans and hold fast to a likely heart. 'You should know that as well as any of us'. For of course, not all vampires held such disdainful hearts, and he could feel the soul next to him, sordid and evil, yet so very lovely and full; it pulled him in, and he bent his head, his lips pursing loosely against hers. His long, spindly digits moved through the frenzied locks and pulled her closer, till she meshed against him and he could feel the slow course of her sweet blood moving beneath the textures of dress and skin.

status :: for taren
outfit :: x x x
listening to :: nine in the afternoon; panic at the disco