Few things in the world made the Reaper of Souls nervous. She was able to take the souls of the damned without hesitation, or sink a knife into the back of a target without pause - but this night was different. She had bravely proposition Story, the man with whom she had discovered she shared a rather intricate past with and now had very strong feelings toward, to share an evening in her chambers with her. The request had been spawned due to the revelation of the task that Story held at hand, and the likelihood that it would not end well. She had been unsure whether or not he would accept, but he had - and now she found herself feeling rather anxious.

Presently, Dalanesca stood in her bed chambers, her hands fidgeting aimlessly. The bed, carved from onyx and obsidian, was covered in black silk with red accents, many pillows adorning the head near an intricately carved headboard depicting her sigil.  She found herself near the foot of the bed, staring at the way things were laid out.  Hurriedly, she walked around the side of the bed, straightening out one of the black-cased pillows.  When she was satisfied with its appearance, she stepped away.  

Her eyes shifted to the door, which she had left invitingly open, unsure of what point Story would come walking through it.  She had insisted to everyone in Domus Tenebris that he be left to his own devices upon arrival - he would know how to find her chambers from the extended time he had spent as a guest in her realm.  Tearing her eyes away from the doorway, she glanced down at herself.  She was dressed in her usual attire - she had contemplated changing into her nightgown and robe, something that the dragon had seen her in before but in a much different context - but she did not want to come across as too forward, though she knew the reason for her invitation was well known to him.  Without her armor on, the outfit consisted of a black leather corset top with buckles across the back rather than lacing, trimmed with hints of red lace.  The skirt she wore fell to the floor, with a slit on either side offering a small peek of the pale flesh of her legs.  The over-the-knee boots she usually wore lay discarded near the door, her bare feet padding silently across the floor as she walked about the room.  Pausing at the table near the door, she poured herself a bit of a dark red wine out of a carafe into a crystal goblet, taking a small sip from it, savoring the taste.

Black, red, and white candles lit the room, spaced unevenly throughout the entire area.  Their flames flickered mildly from the soft breeze drifting in through the open window on the far side of the room, a window which looked out over Paraiso Venenum, her very own garden of poisonous plants and flowers.  A sweet floral smell carried on the breeze, and walked to the window, drawing in a breath.  The breeze rustled her hair slightly, which fell in dark waves around her shoulders.  Taking another sip of her wine, she then closed her eyes as she leaned on the window sill, taking in the evening air of her realm, her back to the doorway.  At this moment, there was nothing more for her to do than to wait for Story to arrive.

Standing before a looking glass at an inn located in Adeluna, Story surveyed his naked mortal form. After Dalanesca had propositioned him, and left him with an amulet bearing her sigil, the dragon had departed the Circles of Inferos to do his own preparations. He would never have thought that sexuality would be the subject to cause him to be introspective of his own nature, but here he was, scrutinizing himself before a mirror. While there were many creatures that could change their shape - dragons included, not many of these beings fully inhabited the forms they took. He was born of an essence, not another being. While the Dark had chosen his default state, he found he did not take to it as his brothers and sisters had. He had always tended more towards the soft, vulnerable from of a man…and yet, he never really fully understood or experienced what it truly meant to be human in many regards.

If memory served, he had never become that intimate with the woman the Goddess had been so very long ago. They never had a chance to be.

Indigo eyes traveled the reflection of ebony flesh, where there would normally be a scaly hide. Instead of shimmering scales, curly hairs adorned his dark chest, glistening with sweat from the Summer heat. His thoughts were in many places, but at the forefront of everything was the concept of the act of sex itself. His skin tingled with the surge of feelings coursing through him, his thoughts a muddled pool of fantasies and curiosities. His present anatomy below stood at attention, which he willed himself to ignore as he began to dress.

Despite the chaotic state of the city, Story had managed to procure a heady fragrance, and finer attire than he ever chosen to wear normally. He had changed form in the night, and took flight to bathe in a lake, and returned to this room he had barred himself into. His continued outings netted him a razor to trim with, and flowers to bring to Dalanesca. He had creatively taken a few select deadly plants that one could find in her gardens from a nearby alchemist, and bouqueted them with black roses and dragon lilies.

Story took up the amulet, and stopped to observe himself in the mirror once more. With the silver in his hair, and now wearing gentleman's clothing with a roguish overcoat, he looked rather distinguished, if he dared think so himself. He had never really tended to his appearance before. He understood a little now why Malchiah and those who chose to view themselves as regal beings preened themselves so much as men. It did feel good to do….in moderation though, mayhaps.

He found it had taken only a passing thought while holding the object to be transported before the gates of Dalanesca's manor.

The gates opened to him, and he traversed the path most familiar to him, through the gardens. He had only seen the Goddess' chambers from afar during his stay, but he knew this to be the quickest route to them. Sure enough, he could see her there, leaning in the window above, the very picture of beauty, even in this morbid setting and crimson-tinted light.

"You look rather bored, mon amour," Story called up to her. "Perhaps I can be of assistance. I hear your garden needs tending…"

She could sense the moment in which Story arrived in Inferos. It came as nothing more than a brief, fleeting thought - but such a small thing brought a jolt to her stomach, a jolt that contained a mixture of anxiety and excitement. The connotations behind her invitation were not an unknown concept to the goddess. She had been with men before, but there was something about this particular man that caused her heart to flutter.

She remained in her position at the window, and she felt a smile slip onto her face as Story came into view below her window, a bouquet of an unusual arrangement clutched in one of his hands.She took in the sight of him as one would drink wine, savoring every moment of it. The bits of silver mixed in with his dark hair caught the strange moonlight of the realm, standing out even further against the tone of his skin. She immediately noticed that his attire was entirely different, much finer than she had seen him in before. It even appeared that he was freshly shaven. She felt a swell of pride that he had taken such steps with his appearance just to spend a night with her, but she quickly shoved that aside and focused on him once more as he called up to her.

"I was hoping you hadn't changed your mind," she called down. A bit of a blush came to her cheeks at his next statement, the true meaning behind it rather audible in its phrasing.  "Stay there," she continued, straightening up and removing her hands from the windowsill.  She vanished from sight, darting through her room and out into the hallway, dashing quickly from her chambers and down the hall in her bare feet.  

Within moments, she had arrived below her windowsill, a short distance between herself and the man she would soon call her lover.  Closing the gap between the two, she stepped close to him, rising up on the tips of her bare toes to bring her lips to his in a brief kiss.  She fought the urge to press her body into his and morph an innocent kiss into something more, and pulled away.  Stepping back, she looked into his eyes, the icy blue eyes of her gaze filled with a carnal glint that had not been there before.  "The short time since I last saw you has felt like an eternity," she said, a shroud of desire covering her words.  "My mind has wandered to some… interesting places," she admitted.

Reaching out with one hand, she placed her palm and fingers first on his jawline, slowly trailing them down the side of his neck and chest.  Her fingers grazed across the fine cloth he wore, brushing along his hip and the top of his thigh, her gaze following her hand's movements down his body.  Her tongue darted out between her lips to wet them, though the action was one more of desire than comfort.  She dropped her hand, and stood back from him.  "I could not dream of allowing you to take on Malchiah and this… thing, without at least experiencing one evening with the man whom fate has apparently deemed I am to be with once more," she said, her gaze softening for a time.  

"Let us head back inside, where we can truly be alone?" she suggested.  While none of the denizens of the manor were purposely intruding on their privacy, there were many going about their way and the two would not be truly alone unless behind closed doors.

"I wouldn't dare dream of it," remarked Story in reply to Dalanesca's relief over him not having a change of heart over their rendezvous. As the Goddess quickly scurried from her window, visions swam in Story's mind. The daydreams harkened back to a time when the lady anxiously hurrying to see him was but a naive young mortal girl. This was a mirror of that time, perhaps, without the tinge of the forbidden upon their meeting; not to say that it was no less exciting.

No army or angry monarch came to greet Story. There was only the deadly solitude of the Reaper, his love's garden. Strange how the passage of time seemed to change things and people. The dragon's own perception of time made this phenomenon very much intensified. In the past, he was the one that was the forbidden fruit…the devil, reviled by the mortal-kind who refused his race's dark gifts. Ironic that whom he gave his heart to would become the very manifestation of sin and death. Meanwhile, after her first "death", he had been the great and terrible judge, the judicator paladin that had put an end to his own race's rule, restoring balance, and binding his eldest brother.

Story's mortal heart fluttered at Dalanesca's touch. Being with her here and now seemed far more surreal than it had during his long stay in her realm several seasons past. Now with this new context and prior knowledge shared between them, the desire that had always lurked beneath the surface was intoxicating. He quietly embraced her when she moved to touch him, his own hands wandering her every curve, and his eyes feasting upon this, and the titillatingly stark contrast in their tones of flesh.

The Goddess' next words when she stepped back from him were somewhat sobering. When Story's brother's name was mentioned, he again thought upon he convergence in times and rebirth in which the three of them sat in. With them, also potentially the entirety of the world. He viewed this unbelievable blessing that had been brought to him as fragile. One false step, and all would sink below the ice of history. One wrong movement, and the tapestry of many lives would be unwoven.

Although….

This state of frantic, racing thoughts also had Story dwell upon the fact that his own tale was infinitesimally small in the grandiose scheme of all things. There were many other stories happening all at once. Such was the strangeness of the colors of this painting, the dragon was not one to put his faith in the forces of fate. Story's story was only just now beginning anew with another . He dared not believe that the canvas could be washed clean so easily.

Story kissed her then. Briefly, but passionately, and also playfully. Taking her hand in his, he all but sprinted back up through the manor with Dalanesca in tow. He raced her up the stairwell, groping her hips, or tickling her as they ascended to her chambers. Occasionally, the two would crash together, and bits of clothing would come off here or there. In the end, they had managed to make it through the doors and shut them, though barely.

The journey back through the manor and into her chambers further ignited the spark deep within Dalanesca's chest.  After many stops along the way, they finally managed to reach their destination.  She ushered Story through the door, shutting the heavy doors as she walked in behind him.  Letting go of his hand, her bare feet padded towards the bed near the back of the room.  Her hair was rather disheveled from their adventures on the way in, and a few of the buckles on the back of her corset were loosely undone.  Her eyes scanned Story's form, catching glimpses of exposed skin where her own hands had loosened his clothing in an earnest attempt to be closer to him.

She remained this way for a few moments until her eyes raised back to his face and locked with his own.  Wordlessly, she stepped towards him, and when no distance remained between the two, she stood up on the tips of her toes once more.  She pressed her body into his own, urging his arms to wrap around her and hold her to him.  Her lips crashed into his own once more, this kiss much different than those before.  No longer did the touch of their lips feel innocent and intimate - this kiss was one of pure desire and need.  Her back arched slightly and she pressed her hips into him as she kissed him more fervently, her knee bending to allow her thigh to press and rub gently between his legs.  Her lips parted while she kissed him, her tongue seeking to tangle itself with his in an effort to be as connected as she possibly could to him.

After a few minutes of this heated kiss, her hands roaming his neck and back all the while, she broke away from him and stepped out of his reach, until she stood a few feet away from him.  She made eye contact with once more, but this time she did not move to him.  Instead, she soundlessly reached behind herself and loosened the remaining buckles of her top, allowing the garment to fall to the floor.  She pushed her hair behind her shoulders and allowed her hands to trail down her own body to her waist, her fingertips grazing across the edges of her breasts as she did so.  Her fingers found their way to the cord at the top of her skirts and loosened it, those too falling to the floor.  She stepped out of them and slightly towards him, still keeping a bit of a distance, her now naked form completely visible to him in the candlelight of the room.  

Her eyes never left Story's.  She stepped towards him until she was once more mere inches from him.  "I want you to touch me," she said,her hand reaching out and grasping his own, raising it up to her chest and placing it upon her breast, her hand still covering the back of his.  She had longed to feel his touch on her naked skin for quite some time, and just the smallest touch sent a jolt of electricity to her core.  "All of me," she continued, slowly beginning to guide his hand down her body.  She leaned towards him a bit, her free hand snaking its way down to firmly graze over the slight bulge between his legs.  Her fingers raised back up and danced at the waist of his trousers rather teasingly. 

"The opportunity for one to claim a Goddess as their conquest does not arrive too often, I would imagine," she said, her fingers continuing to toy with him as they dipped below the waist of his trousers, teasing the skin hidden there.  She leaned towards him, her lips so close to his ear that they brushed against it as she continued to speak, her voice hardly above a whisper.  "Make me yours," she said, a variety of connotations contained in her words, the statement coming out as a mixture of a command and of lustful begging.

If there was any time that Story felt more human than dragon, he felt it the most here, in these moments with Dalanesca. Love and lust were not alien concepts to dragons; they merely experienced the feelings associated with them differently. In Story's case, the entirety of the experience was very abstract and spiritual, despite being grounded in quite tangible, highly responsive flesh. No flesh truly belonged to the sort of being that he was. He was not a body with a soul; he was a soul with a changeable body.

As his hands wandered Dalanesca's form, and their lips locked, Story felt the heated surges not just in his blood, but in his spirit. The waves of familiarity and of new love crackled through his being with an arcane force that put an intensity in his physical actions. It seemed that the Goddess shared this passion. No matter how closely their bodies touched, no matter how their tongued delved and danced, the insatiable need to have more of the other was something that transcended mere lust….though, that also played its part well.

Story watched as Dalanesca moved from him, and exposed her feminine form. As was the nature of his sprawling, traveling thoughts, he was focused upon more than just her curves and soft, milky white flesh. When he looked into her eyes, he saw not just the woman he used to know, but the woman she had become, in the here and now. The deity of many layers and shifting spheres. In fractions of each passing moment, he contemplated her strength and complexity in awe - juxtaposed to moments where he appreciated the art of her body with equal reverence.

Pleasantly being pulled from his reveries, and into the present moment, Story's lips parted in a silent gasp as he was made to grasp her breast. He closed his eyes and groaned quietly at the feel of her touching his manhood, which throbbed in anticipation. The arousal he felt was almost painful, but in a pleasant way. It was one of many dams within that felt like it could burst.

His other hand followed suit, touching and fondling her other breast. His eyes slowly traveled down her body as his hands also generously appreciated every inch of her. Then, his eyes arose again to gaze into hers. A soft smile gradually spread through all of his features as he reached up to touch her face. "You always were a Goddess in my eyes," he mused.The words seemed sweet and fleeting, yet held much weight. Aside from saying that her ascension was irrelevant to his ego, he spoke also with his eyes. He would have her…here, at long last. Nothing would take her from him. Not even death. How could it, when she was death itself?

Story kissed her again, and then his lips traveled to her jaw, and down her neck. His fingertips pressed ever so slightly into her flesh as they grazed down her back, and then cupped and kneaded her butt. Frantically, he removed threw aside the last bit of his loosened garments with one hand. His other hand slid up to her lower back as his lips traveled across the tops of her breasts. He pulled her against him as he firmly kneaded one breast with his free hand, and suckled lightly at her nipple.

There was something overly familiar about Story's touch, though she had never felt his hands on her in such a fashion before.  A soft sigh escaped her lips as he placed his free hand upon her as well, and she met his gaze as he reached up to touch her face.  As his hands cupped her rear, she sub consciously pressed her hips into him, returning the kiss with much fervor.  She loosened her grip as he removed the rest of his garments, and let out a soft laugh as his lips returned to her skin.  

The moment Story's lips wrapped around her nipple, gently sucking, she let out a sharp gasp, her fingers tangling themselves in his dark hair.  As his hand held her body close to him, so did she hold him close to her in this way, a soft moan of pleasure escaping her lips.  She enjoyed the sensation for a few moments, before pulling herself away from him, slipping out of his grasp.  

Taking a few steps back, her eyes scanned his form, taking in the dark hue of his skin and the indigo shade of his eyes, the bits of gray peppered throughout his hair, and the musculature of his physique.  "I have dreamed about this more than once," she said, her voice hardly above a whisper.  "I have spent more than one night, alone in my chambers, imagining what it would be like to be with you."  She began to walk towards him again, running the back of her own hand down her collar bone, grazing over her breast.  She dropped her hand to her side when she was mere inches from him.  "I will not have to imagine any longer," she whispered, closing the gap between them.  She stood on her toes, her lips brushing against his collarbone.  Her hands trailed down his chest, her mouth following in their wake, planting kisses and little nibbles as she descended.

Her hands reached their destination, one wrapping firmly about his length.  Slowly, she worked her grip up and down his shafted, pumping ever so slowly,  As she did this, she lowered herself, now kneeling in front of Story.  Her tongue darted out, wetting her lips as she continued to stroke him.  Leaning forward, she let her lips trail over his hips and just down the front of his thighs, her hand never losing pace.  After moments of teaching, she parted her lips and took him into her mouth, her tongue swirling around the head while her hand continued to stroke him.  Her free hand splayed out on his stomach, her fingers pressing ever so slightly into his skin as she continued to pleasure him with her mouth, looking up at him from her position with a devious glint in her icy blue eyes.

In truth, despite Story's worldly wisdom, he had never before pursued the level of intimacy which he now shared with Dalanesca. Not since her last incarnation - an intimacy that had never come to full bloom at that time. He understood what to do, and what was pleasurable. Every sensation being so fresh and new to him, however, it took little to place him into throes of erotic conniptions.

As the Goddess purred her satisfaction at finally having him here, all to herself and descended his body, Story shivered pleasantly at her caress and kisses. He gasped softly as her hand wrapped about his manhood, and jumped and throbbed at her touch. His lips stayed parted as he panted, and reached blindly around for any object to hold him steady, for his knees felt like they might give way. His eyes closed, and his brows knit together with intense pleasure when she at last wrapped her lips about him, and moved in tandem with her hand. Letting out a low moan, one hand reached to her, fingers running through her hair as he met her gaze. His abdomen rose and fell rapidly beneath her hand pressed to him.

"Amour," Story breathed, clawing at the nearby wardrobe with his other hand which he had steadied him. "I don't know how much of this I can take, I need you…."
He trailed off as Dalanesca hit just the right spots and increased her pace. "…now," he finished, the statement of his desire somewhat weakened by the pleasure he currently received. He repeated it though, with more conviction. "I need you right now!"

Slipping from her grasp, Story lowered enough to lift the Goddess from the floor, and moved with her to her bed. Rather than toss her onto it, he fell with her, kissing her passionately on the way down. Groping at her thighs, he encouraged them two wrap about him, and he shuddered as he writhed against her, feeling his length rub betwixt them.

A giggle escaped Dalanesca's lips at the sounds of pleasure her lover made, though her laughter was muffled by his length still sliding back and forth between her lips.  She sucked a bit harder at the tip as he braced himself, reveling in the satisfaction of the state she had put him in.  As he slipped from her grasp, she let out a playful yelp but was quickly silenced by his lips on her own.  Once more, she tangled her tongue with his, spreading her legs as he grabbed at her thighs.  

As she lay beneath him, Dalanesca's hips seemed to move of their own accord, rising up to press against Story as she felt his manhood slide between her legs, brushing against her but never slipping inside, their skin easily gliding together thanks to her own arousal.  She moaned softly into their kiss, pressing her hips against his body with more passion until she was then grinding her body against him.  Her hands gripped at his back, her nails lightly grazing his skin.

Reluctantly, she pulled her lips from Story's, a gasp of pleasure being the first sound she made.  His length stroked against her most sensitive area, her legs wrapping tighter around his body to hold him close.  Her lips trailed to the side of his face and down his jaw, her fingers still pressed into the flesh of his back.  She moaned once more against him, enjoying each sensation.

Her lips found their way to his ear, and she whispered, her voice heavily laden with lust and desire.  "Do you feel what you have done to me?" she whispered, nearly panting the question out.  She squirmed beneath him, repositioning her body ever so slightly to allow his head to press just barely inside her entrance, enveloping the tip in the wetness caused by her arousal.  Drawing Story's earlobe into her mouth, she suckled on it ever so slightly, her teeth just barely grazing against it.  "If I am to be yours, you must earn it," she said, her words devious and filled with want, posing a challenge as she continued to squirm her naked body beneath his own, still relishing in the pleasure.

Story's sexual conviction soon gave way to deep moans and weak groping. He wanted with every fiber of his being to slip inside of his lover, but Dalanesca seemed to have other plans. She kept her hips pressed to his own, and moved with him. His kisses remained frantic and impassioned. He shivered as her nails ran down his back, and involuntarily pressed even more to her as she moved. His hands pressed to the bed, one moving down and groping at her arse and thigh as she grinded on him.

Dalanesca's words sent more shivers through Story. Biting his lip, he tried in vain to press the remainder of the way into her. So close, yet so far…

He met her icy blue gaze as she spoke, and he then understood. Shifting himself so he could gradually crawl downwards, his gaze lingered in hers for a while as he kissed her face, neck, and breasts. The devious and lustful tinge in the Goddess' eyes transferred to the dragon's own just then. With machinations of both hands and mouth, he would please her until the mantle of control shifted to him. He wanted to hear her beg.

Story took his time descending Dalanesca's form, pausing for a good while at her breasts, kneading them as he suckled and licked attentively. His fingertips then preceded his impending kisses downward, lightly grazing her flesh as his lips followed. His tenderness roughened some without warning as he pressed his lips firmly to her stomach, and groped her hips. Just after this, he bit her thigh lightly, and manhandled her thighs to splay open to him.

He knew what Dalanesca wanted, but he didn't go right for it. Still, he lingered, languidly kissing every inch of her inner thigh, and lasciviously breathing upon her most sensitive spot before moving to her other thigh. At long last, he slunk down to position himself betwixt her legs, arms lacing under them so he could run his hands up her body. He gazed up to her, waiting for her to return eye contact before he faux-tentatively lapped at her. Once. Twice. Thrice. Then, he moved down, pressing and dragging his tongue from between her cheeks below, all the way up to her clit, which he flicked with the tip of his tongue.

Gauging her reaction, Story then closed his eyes and gently suckled at her clit, letting out a small moan against her as his hands caressed her aimlessly. He did this awhile, before suddenly pressing his tongue deep inside of her right as his hands found her breasts, giving them a salacious squeeze.