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Raven finds herself lost in a world of lust, and the clutches of a mysterious man


Submitted:Dec 22, 2013    Reads: 289    Comments: 2    Likes: 1   


Flakes of ice drift down onto once green land,

coating it in a cold blanket of white.


Porcalin-like feet run through it; causing

prints and marks, a crunch with each step.

The girl twirls, gown flaring out around her

like an orchid in the wind, an array of dark

silk and lace.

Raven peers about her, watching snow drift

down onto the ground around; curiousity

playing in her deep blue gaze. Why she is

here, she hadn't a clue. Where she should be,

is home, in the warm, with parents that wish

her to dress in bright gaudy colours and

flowers.

A grimace plays on the girls face as she

imagines herself wearing such things her

parents would suggest, giggling at her escape

mission.

Home is far away, now, and she has no way of

them finding her.

Raven runs through the meadow, feeling chills

peel up her spine like a thousand freezing

fingers.

Something sounds in the near distance, she

pauses. A rustling of branches, leaves.

What could it be?

A sharp caw sounds from another direction,

causing panic and fear to stab at the Ravens

frantically beating heart, sending blood

coursing through her veins at an alarming

rate.

Cold fingers smash from the ground, gripping

white flesh, dragging down, crashing down in a

cloud of white ice.

Raven's scream penetrates the bristling of the

leaves.

Ground cracks beneath her feet dragging her

into a world of unknown, hair whipped from her

face in the wind that claws at her flesh as

she spirals downwards into the earth.

She crashes down, landing not on cold , hard

earth, but on a bed of silk pillows, covers,

rose petals.

The scent of cinnamon wafts around the room,

swirled with dried rose petals and ...

jasmine?

Something in those mixed scents sparked a

small flame within her own chamber, a

dwindling spark, for now.


What is this?

What is happening?

Panic still claws at her precious beating

heart, spikes her veins and tingles up her

spine. Something is not right.

She attempts movement and finds herself

entranced , entrhalled by something standing

in the doorway. Something that is illuminuated

in the crimson candle light of the chamber she

has landed in.

It is a male.

Unable to help herself she lets out an uneasy

giggle, a nervous sound.

Currently Raven sits in a crumpled heap of

bird's nest hair and creased silk gown. She

stares at him, unknowing of her disheavled

appearance.

The man moves closer, sits on the edge of the

four poster bed, pushes the curtains aside.

His skin is marble white, his eyes rubies. His

hair is an inky mass of black that seems to

glide down his shoulders like a tainted

waterfall gliding over white flesh. Black ink

on paper.

One cold firm hand lays itself against the

bare flesh of her hand, takes her fingers,

rises it to his lips.

They are cold, so...very cold.

Silk brushes over Raven's knuckles as the mans

scarlet orbs meet hers, mesmerizing her into

submission.


Fragile fingers tremble beneath his firm grip,

struggling subconciously to escape but not

wanting to, realistically.

A hand glides up the porcalin coloured silk of

her leg, scooping up the folds of fabric that

cloth her until they reach the flesh and

warmth of her core, where blood pulsates

infuriatingly, as if something within wants to

break free.

Raven inhales suddenly as silk lips grace her

neck, dipping into the crevice of her

collarbone with a wet, warm tongue, teeth

brushing flesh, grazing, soft on rough.

She groans, tilting her head back, the hand

upon her core rising and lowering, dipping

between damp, pulsating folds.


Ravens fingers clutch at his inky mass of

hair, tugging and curling within it, tensing,

then releasing again. Pleasure courses through

her body like wildfire.

The touch withdraws, leaving Raven restless,

squirming like a fish out of water, her back

giving a gothic arch, gown falling around her

form as she moves.

Moments later the gown has completely

dissapeared, leaving Raven a mess of pleasure

and fear, a sweet concoction.

Pale lips part, releasing another ogasmic

sound, as a knee parts hers, something slips

against her chest, wraps cool, long fingers

around her breast, a thumb stroking over a

painfully hard nipple.

Raven is only partially aware of her

surroundings, almost completely taken over by

the luscious feelings taking over her very

being from the core, spreading out and sending

tingling spikes across her flesh.

She feels her thighs slip apart to make way

for another body; something pushing between

her folds, hot, hard, penetrating as it slips

further, pushing in to the hilt. Raven loses

her mind to the ecstasy.

Whoever the man was, he was making Raven feel

things she had never felt before. Her fingers

clasped the back of his neck as the creature

moved within her, pressing forward and back

over and over with powerful thrusts.

He made no sound, a silent, mysterious lover.

His hair cascaded onto their faces forming a

mystical black curtain. Their lips met,

moulding with one another, heartts racing

together.

The movements quickened, sending heat

spiralling out of control, pleasure building

up in Ravens abdomen, that familiar clenching,

tightening feeling she got when she was near.

She bit down on his lip a little.

He let out a primal growl , deep in the back

of his throat, a sound of Dominance, control,

power.

Raven held her breath trying to hold her

climax off a while longer, but it wouldn't be

long before she couldn't control the

inevitable.

Her thighs tightened around his waist, his

thrusts increasing impossibly until they were

both making primal groans of lust, unable to

help themselves.

Something burst between them, causing them

both to utter their climaxing groans, holding

onto eachother like wild animals.

Raven panted, still squirming in the aftermarth of things, clutching onto him as if for dear life.

Tiredness pulled at her body, her skin aching, needing relaxation , but she didn't want to sleep, no, not yet.

Just then the mans head rose, burying his face against her neck. Raven felt something sharp peirce her skin, blood rolling down her neck as her eyes rolled into her head at the sensation.

At that moment, she woke up in her gaudy coloured room, wishing she didn't dream so damned much.





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