Takes place the day after This RP
9:15pm.
So she was a little late as she walked down the hallway to the apartment and studio Sonia had led her to once before. One perk about having hunted so long was her memory for getting around was pretty spot on. She did not even need to remember which room number was his as she came to the door and knocked.
More like pounded.
A little favor returned after she heard about what happened before they woke her up the night before.
One look at her and no one would guess she was showing up for what was basically a booty call. Heck, even she half expect that this would turn out to be nothing. Mathias had been out of it last night. He liked her? Wanted her to be a weapon? Was putting her in a place to kill him.
Rolling her eyes, she needed answers. This was not some stupid movie where the student killed the master when he went bat s**t crazy. She wasn’t even his student!
Second priority though.
----
He answered the door shirtless and with a bottle of REALLY GOOD Whiskey in hand. “I was about to pour…” He chuckled and let her in, moving over to the island to do just that. “Was getting worried you might not show.”
He poured her a glass of the whiskey and held it out to her. “This is what you were looking for, yes?”
----
Shirtless man...Whiskey. The whiskey won the fight of who got her attention first.
Imara’s eyes lit up as she glanced down at the bottle, slipping inside. The entire time, she was watching how he worked the bottle and the speed of the pour. Curse having a paying job in an upscale steak house. But it did mean she really knew her drinks.
Taking the glass, she lifted it up to look at it through the light and smiled. Bringing it back down, the pleasure on Imara’s face as she lifted it to her lips was like any other woman on a chocolate fix. Heaven. “You pour too quickly.” It was said sharply before she sipped the beautiful liquid. “Oh yes. That hits the spot.”
Now she turned her attention back to him. Blinking quickly, she snorted. “How long have you been shirtless?”
---
“I’ll work on it…” he said softly, before knocking back his own and putting the glass on the table. He rolled his shoulders and watched her. “But I’m glad you enjoyed it anyway…”
As to answer her question he nodded his head toward his studio. “I tend to paint shirtless, it gets hot as hell in there… I finished up about a half-hour ago and didn’t bother to put on a shirt…”
He was in jeans and that was it. No shoes, no shirt. Just jeans.
---
“Oh? What were you working on?” She inquired, eye the shot back glass with disgust. Such a waste of good whiskey. Cheap stuff you would shoot for days. This...oh it made her purr. “Naked ladies on your couch?”
She smirked at the hint back to the meeting some time ago. The first time he had wanted to see her naked. Or more naked with another woman. At this point, he had managed to get half of her. Now she got half of him.
Throwing back another drink, longer this time, she set her own glass down. “You know, don’t really care.” Imara looked at him and smiled. “I did not come here for small talk. I suck at it anyway.” Her eyes quickly made it clear what she wanted and shot down to his groin.
----
Mathias laughed as she talked and he moved over to her then. “Well then, best not keep a lady waiting…” He murmured, and leaned in, but instead of going for a kiss he moved his lips to her neck, biting and sucking at her skin. If she looked down at his groin hard enough, she’d see that he was already somewhat hard.
It wouldn’t be long till he was ready to go.
--
Muscles tensed all along Imara’s shoulder and back causing her to go rigid. Her eye shot open wide and quickly she jerked back away from him looking at first a bit nervous and then quickly as if she was ready to kick his a** to next Tuesday. Fight or Flight had kicked in full force and adrenaline raced through her veins.
Imara was shaking slowly but quickly realized her actions and inhaled. Teeth. One of her favorite turn ons had just caused her to pull away from cheap and easy. Silently she turned and moved back to the glasses of whiskey. Pouring more than what should have been considered acceptable, the woman downed half in one long drink.
Setting the glass down with a click, Imara shook out her teal and white hair. “Damnit.” Another breath. “That was not right.”
Eyes shifted, looking back at the half naked man. They were full of confusion ...and fire. “What did you do to me?”
----
Mathias frowned and he knew what happened. He’d developed a trigger in her mind. He’d hurt her and her body associated the biting with pain now instead of pleasure. There was really only way around it.
“It’s from when I bit you… your body is expecting pain now…” He said gently.
“Time and… facing your issues will help with that… But…” He looked her dead in the eye.
“I’m going to suggest something a little odd…” He moved to her and instead of leaning in, he held out his hands to her wrists together.
“You’re the boss tonight… You call the shots. You tell me what you want and I’ll do it.”
---
Eyes followed his movements. Just the mention of that bite made her shoulder ache. How had she allowed this to happen. Had she not gotten away long enough to make it all a distant memory?
But the pain was still real as it passed through her mind. Worst yet was the image of his face bearing her blood. Slowly her hands balled into a fist so strong she could feel her nails digging into the flesh of her palms. “Damn you Mathias. Damn you to hell and back again.” She spat out several times over before turning and smacking the offered wrist with the back of his hand.
“What are you going to take from me next you son of a b***h?” Locking eyes with him, she stepped forward. “Is that your plan? Take everything from me and turn me into a weapon?” The distant closed quickly and she reached up grabbing a clump of his hair. “I said spar and you turned into some kind of crazed animal. If I had my bow….”
Jerking his head back she shook before releasing him. Standing for a moment there, just glaring at at his form. “Kneel.”
----
Mathais didn’t even question, he dropped to his knees immediately. He looked up at her. Not saying a word. He didn’t have to. His face told everything he might have said.
He was sorry… so very sorry. He hadn’t meant to hurt her… Maybe she should put him down. He didn’t fight her, didn’t struggle as she grabbed him. He wanted her to be a weapon yes…
But not one that was without feelings and needs.
---
She watched him with eyes of stone as he knelt before her. They followed him down and locked onto his expression. It was too late for apologies. She might have considered it back when she was a bit more unstable. The first week after he had really messed with her head. An apology would have worked.
Not tonight. Not tomorrow. Not again.
“No Mathias.” He word spat out of her mouth. Slowly she began to walk around him, her eyes never leaving his face. “It’s too late for that now.” Her hand went up and grabbed his hair again. Imara was standing behind him, her feet on either side of his legs. “So forget that expression and deal with the fact that you took something from me.” She leaned down and whispered in his ear. “Should I return the favor?” Her right foot came up and mashed down on his ankle.
-----
He hissed but said nothing for a minute. “... You’re the boss…” He said softly. “Do what you want…” He looked up at her. No apologizes now, just.. pain and… oddly enough sincerity.
“You want to ******** me up then ******** me up… I’m your… b***h…” He met her gaze as he spoke.
“Use me, abuse me… whip me, beat me… Whatever your heart desires, I’m yours tonight…”
---
Her foot came off his ankle to allow her knee to jam into his mid back. “You a*****e.”
Finding both her feet under her once more, she returned to stand in front of him. “Really? You think that bullshit is what I want to hear? If that is what I wanted to hear I would have made you weeks ago! I would not have left. I would not have taken back something else you and this damn life is trying to take from me!”
“No. Not this life….” Her eyes looked down at her balled fist. It took only a second but Imara changed. Power raced through her and she took on her other form.
The hooked face of Stibnite shoot a glare of death back at him. With speed she could only gain from the chaos pumped into her blood, she closed the distance and wrapped both hands around his neck, squeezing it. “You Mathias. All you.” Each second she squeezed harder. “All because you want a weapon! A puppet. A pet.”
“You picked the wrong b***h.”
----
His vision went red almost immediately and his first instinct was to fight for his life. He made small choking noises as she squeezed, but he did not fight her. “I...I…” His head was swimming and it was all he could do to stay conscious, to try and force air into his lungs and he wasn’t getting any.
“Sorry…” He gagged out. “Not… puppet… pet... “ He wheezed, his muscles starting to slack his eyes rolling skyward.
“Like...didn’t mean...to...hur-”
Eyes fluttered and his vision greyed out.
And for the first time in a very long time - Mathias blacked out into oblivion.
---
Her hands released his throat and Stibnite stood over his limp form as she watched it drop. Her eyes were hooded as she gazed down and watched him for a moment, carefully taking in his chest as it filled with air. She could have killed him.
A small part of her wanted to kill him.
But then she would never get anywhere.
Using the extra strength this form gave her, Stibnite silently knelt down and adjusted the ‘dead’ weight of his body into her arms. By the time she found a means to lift him, it was more sack of potatoes. Oops. Heaving him along, she took a guess by the fully shut door that this was his bedroom. Basically kicking open the door, she gave him another good heave and plopped him on the bed.
Quietly she gazed down at his form as her own shifted yet again. Imara stood there in the darkness, silent tears at the edge of her eyes.
She didn’t stay in that room long. Whiskey was calling her.
Torvil
