The pain of her nails as they tore through the flesh of his back was sharp. Sudden. Grounding. Enough to punctuate that otherwise haze of bloodlust that seemed to fuel him ever onward. That hot, rich taste was intoxicating and so uniquely...Risque. His lover was by far his favoured taste. One made all the more glorious by that violent, chaotic sex that combined hunger and lust and violence and need into a blur of divine perfection that somehow seemed to meet his each and every need. Darcy, in that moment, was nothing short of the monster she had trained him to be. One that, free of his leash, seemed to relish in that control as he had never done before. How his entire demeanor seemed to shift. A chaotic blind of wild, violent intent so underpinned by a delicate thread of control he seemed to teeter dangerously upon with each and every movement. The feel of her nails as they raked his back seemed to prompt a hiss from within the vampire's throat. Her command, in turn, managed to pierce that haze that had settled upon his mind. Darcy, for several, precarious moments, seemed to consider that command. The vampiric cowboy, for the first time in very near a century- seemed to debate his Mistress' desires, before, at last, slowly releasing his hold upon her neck. His tongue parted his lips, caressing those violent, angry wounds, coaxing them to close before his mismatched gaze seemed to shift to meet her own. His own eyes held little save....wildness in that moment. A look made all the more potent by the blood that stained his lips and face and hands. The interior of that truck was....carnage and yet how little he cared. How much he relished in it. In that chance to exist as their species should in all its bloodied glory with no need to hold back.

Yet how her words seemed to twist within his mind. Her threats hardly failed to register as the motion of his hips seemed to cease near abruptly. Darcy was content to withdraw near entirely from his lover before his hand moved to catch her own as he lifted it from his back. This was a new control. A level he had never before seemed capable of reaching. A practised, dangerous, unpredictable control. His gaze shifted from her own as if to study her hand and the broken, splintered nails upon it. Her fingers were stained with his blood, the scent of it salty, metallic and all-too tempting within that tight space. How he seemed to contemplate them for the barest of movement. That lack of thrust from his own hips sure to have seized his lover's attention in turn before he suddenly guided her fingers to his own lips. His tongue brushed along one finger, licking his blood from upon it, before drawing that finger between his lips to suck what gore remained from it. That very act so distinctly less...violent then before and yet so decidedly more....seductive. How rarely Risque so permitted him to...explore her figure in such a fashion. His lover was nothing short of dominant within that bedroom. Risque, from the earliest of moments, so having been content to demand of him what she desired. Darcy in turn so nothing if not a willing pupil and yet how well he had come to know her body. To understand its needs. To learn how best to bring about that satisfaction within her if only to make her moan for him. Tonight, for the first time, content to bend her to his will, to take what he had learned and offer it to her in a way he had never done before. His each and every action was nothing if not confident, assured and distinctly....teasing.

How readily he felt her body arch with need beneath him. That subtle movement distinctly arousing to him in turn. A sound of protest escaped her and yet how Darcy refused to be hurried as each finger was drawn sensually over his lips and tongue. The vampire seemingly determined to ensnare every droplet of blood as his mate's body all but ached beneath him. For him. His to take just as he pleased. Her fangs bit into her own lip as her body arched once more, seeking that hardened length that remained poised at her very entrance and yet so tormentingly out of reach. She had threatened to take back that control. Her words, it seemed, so hardly forgotten as Darcy's gaze so at last shifted near lazily back down to meet her own as her mode continued to wraith glorious beneath him with need. How empty her threat was, of that he was certain. Darcy, this Darcy, nothing short of assured in that confident command he retained. She could have that control back- if she could take it- and yet how determined he was to assure she could not. Those very words were no sooner free of his lips then he moved to press them in a final kiss upon her hand. A grin near...devilish so seeming to find his features in that moment. That very look akin to a dare. As if he sought to goad his mate into proving him wrong in that moment as she insisted she was hardly done with him yet. Darcy was content to assure her she was running out of time.


Those very words were barely above a whisper. An uttered promise, the simper upon his lips so hardly fading before his hips thrust forward suddenly to enter her once more with a renewed and potent vigor. The very force of that act seemed to slide her figure further up that seat. Each roll of his hips was heavy, demanding, forcing her to take all of him within the tight perfection of her depths.That feel of her was exquisite perfection. That pleasure seemed to ensnare him with every thrust as he moved to bring his lips to her own. That kiss so equally deep and forceful and lust filled. His tongue brushed agianst her own, slicing itself upon her fangs to offer her the taste of his own blood in turn before his hand moved to reach downward and between them. How readily his fingers seemed to find the apex of her thighs, to offer that more sensitive center the touch of his fingers. Darcy was content to offer those caresses in time with his own thrusts in an effort to bring her so entirely undone. How close he knew she was to that edge. How readily she seemed to tighten all the more around him as she clung to whatever fragments of her own control remained. Risque had so always been in control of that release. His and her own. Yet how determined Darcy was to take back that control tonight. If only to prove that he could. If only to see her moan beneath him. Her hips titled ever so slightly, meeting his ardent thrusts, affording him all the more depth until he stroked that perfect place over and over. How readily she returned that kiss in turn, as if...feeding from his dominance in a way she had never done before. Yet it was that touch of his hand, it seemed, that coaxed those words from her at last. Oui Darcy. How well he understood that simple phrase. How utterly arousing it was to hear. Her voice was so filled with need and accented so gloriously. Driving him onward. She was so close to that release. So desperately close. Her limbs seemed to wrap around him, drawing his figure closer in turn. The southern cowboy so hardly broke or lessened that rhythm as he pushed them both toward that pleasurable pinnacle.

Risque's lips broke from his own near suddenly. Darcy, in that moment, so barely given a chance to react before her hand grasped his hair, tugging his head downward, exposing the flesh of his neck- only to bury her sharpened, femanine fangs within that pristine flesh. That very bite seemed to prompt a near jolt within his own figure. That pain was utterly undeniable and yet how he felt her spiral in that moment. The very force of her climax so utterly....exquisite as she fell around him. Darcy's own figure afforded her several more eager, commanding thrusts before his own climax so readily seemed to find him. His figure held within her, filling her entirely with the force of that release. The vampire left utterly....breathless in the wake of it. For several long, precarious moments Darcy seemed so hardly inclined to move. Not until his lover's fangs lifted from the flesh of his neck. His own length withdrew gently from her before he moved to roll into that passenger seat. Her contented sigh met with a soft exhale from Darcy in turn. The cowboy made an effort to pull up his jeans just enough to cover himself once more without doing up that button or zip. His bare chest rose and fell, that need for air so distinctly human and yet how it allowed him to absorb those scents of...sex and blood. A perfect taint to that blissful afterglow as Risque's words seemed to find him then. He did not fuck fair. A soft sound of amusement rose within his throat, a simper once more daring to tug at his features.

"Well, whose fault is dat?"

Those words were little more than teasing. Darcy, in that moment, in an undeniably (rare) good mood. One hand lifted to run through his tousled dark hair. The very dominance, that very...monster he had been but moments ago so seeming to...settle as quickly as it had appeared. Both vampires, in that moment, seemingly content to merely bath in that afterglow of that truly exceptional sex.

"Risque?"

How quickly his breathing had settled in that darkness. His own accented words at least punctuating that darkness as he uttered her name. Darcy waited only so long as it took his lover's gaze to meet his own again.

"I got a request, since I dun reckon I used em all."

Those requests, he suspected, had been designed to be used during that act itself and yet Risque had hardly been specific. They had, after all, been nothing short of....distracted during those moments.

"Now yar ain't allowed ta lie or nothin'. Was dat da best sex yar ever had in a truck or car or one o'dem fancy rich people carriages or whatever yar had back den?"

How certain Darcy was that it had been the best sex he had ever had in a vehcile of any kind and yet Risque's age exceeded his own. His mate had never been...shy about that lovers she had taken before him even if he had been her one and only mate in all those years. A veritable title he so relished above all. Yet, hos near...curious he was of that veritable performance. Perhaps another title to claim.

"I got another request too."

How decidedly...bold it seemed he was inclined to be tonight and yet how readily that singular act had seemed to...shift that bond between them once more. Altering it. Strengthening it. That change was distinctly subtle, intricate and refined and yet a certain degree of that very boldness, it seemed, was inclined to remain within the southern vampire. That sex so having forged but a new thread in that veritable tapestry of their relationship.

"I reckon dat if yar dun mind it, dat yar could let me be in charge of da sex more den once a year on me birthday, eh? Reckon I aint dat bad at it."

How readily his bloodied fangs seemed to flash in the darkness as he grinned.

"Reckon I need ta get dis truck cleaned too. We christened it damn well."

Fight so dirty, but your love's so sweet
Talk so pretty, but your heart got teeth