Quickwrite...
The soft padding of bare feet announced her arrival. My hand never paused from its task of writing a missive to friend. The ensuing silence was only punctuated by the soft clicks of the desk clock. Sealing the letter, I began to melt the wax so that I could affix my seal upon the letter. Not looking up from the task, I finally spoke, quietly and calmly.
“Are you done being foolish?” Never raising my head, I turned my steady gaze upon her figure. She was standing, head bowed, her expression hidden in the shadows that lurked in the low light of my office.
There was no reply. Of course there was none. Stubborn and headstrong. It would have amused me any other time. However, at the moment, all I felt was a calm, cold anger.
Returning my gaze to the task at hand, I lifted the wax and watched as red dripped slowly upon the envelope, the impact causing soft little plips to sound out. “Come here,” I said, almost as if in an aside, to her while I pressed my personal seal into the liquid wax. I set the items aside, the letter with the cooling wax seal centered upon my desk.
She maneuvered quietly around the cherrywood desk, careful to not disturb any of the items in my office. I pushed my chair back and turned slightly, crossing my legs. I rested my folded hands upon my stomach and regarded her as she sat at my feet. Minutes ticked by in silence, as I gazed at her still bowed head.
The buzzing, empty anger inside me built to a roar, but I waited. I waited until it lessened, quieted, like a stormy ocean giving way to blue water. More time passed until my soul froze once more and everything was silent, hard, and dead inside me.
I lifted my hand and gripped her hair softly. I could see her quiver ever so slightly, anticipating my blow that never came. Instead, I gentled, and ran my fingers through the strands slowly, watching her hair catch the faint light and shine.
“That was the last time. No more.” I kept my voice soft, quiet, but I knew she heard and understood what I meant. There were no more chances. My understanding, my compassion could tolerate only so much.
Slowly, I watched her nod. A small smile curved my lips and I allowed her to rest her head against my thigh, my hand continuing to stroke her hair. I leaned down, pressed a kiss to the top of her head, and then traced the shell of her ear with my lips. “You’re bleeding,” I whispered softly.
She nodded again and wrapped her arms around my legs, leaning against them tiredly. Pressing my nose against her temple, I inhaled softly and smirked against her hair. Trailing fingertips down her neck and tracing her spine, I slid my lips against her hair until I reached the side of her face where the blood was still flowing slightly.
I parted my lips and exhaled softly against the wound. She shivered and I could feel the goosebumps appear upon her skin. My eyes grew hooded in my pleasure. Watching her, with deliberate slowness, I ran the pointed tip of my tongue along the edges of her wound. Her grip upon my legs tightened as I shut my eyes briefly to revel in the metallic taste of her blood in my mouth.
I slid my fingers down her naked back, following the contours of her spine, pausing briefly as spine melted into the rounded fullness of her ass, then slid them slowly to her side and traced a path over her ribs. She buried the side of her face further against my thigh to avoid laughing or pulling away from my touch, as she was very ticklish. Seeing that, the ice inside me softened somewhat and I cupped her injured cheek. Gently, I took my time licking the bleeding wound clean, careful not to cause her any further pain.
When I finished, she was almost purring at my feet. Righting my position, I leaned against the back of my chair, letting the lingering taste of her blood caress and coat the inside of my throat as I swallowed. I continued to stroke her cheek, as she fell asleep, my glowing eyes staring into the fire.