Disclaimer: FK does not belong to me and I do not intend any infringement on
anybody's copyright to the show. The anonymous lady belongs to me though.

Writing this was kind of awkward, I have never written anything from a
first-person point of view before, but I felt this was the right format.
Please bear in mind that English is not my first language.
The story contains explicit m/f sex, so don't read it if you're not supposed
to.
Permission to archive given to FanFic2, FTP site, Jadfe
Eventually, it will also be archived at my site www.come-undone.net.
Comments can be send to cousinlucilla@freenet.de.



After Dark
by Luc, October 2004


A club somewhere in Europe, the present, after dark

I push past the bouncer at the door. He glares at me but doesn't attempt to
stop me. I am greeted by a wall of noise and smoke. Obviously the American
obsession with banning smoking in clubs hasn't yet reached across the big
pond.
I let myself be swept away by the moving crowd just to find myself washed up
against the bar.
I order a glass of wine from the Slavic looking bartender.
Boy, he is pale, I think, probably sleeps the days away.
I accept my glass of red and, sipping slowly, let my eyes wander over the
crowd. A lot of *pale* people here. Must be Night Owl Central, I muse.
I feel no inclination to dance. Honestly, this isn't my usual hang-out at
all. Why did I come in the first place? Hmm, new job, new city, no friends,
some random club-hopping ... there you have it.
I can at least have a few drinks and watch the people before going back to
my empty apartment.
But then I see *him*.
Just as pale as the others and dressed in black. He is sitting in one of the
booths at the back of the club.
Someone who's trying to forget, I think immediately. His posture suggests
it: shoulders slumped forward, half-empty bottle sitting in front of him,
fingers rolling the stem of his glass absentmindedly.
He keeps staring straight ahead, yet seems to see nothing of what is going
on right before his nose.
Zoned out into NeverNeverLand. I know that feeling.
I feel the urge to go over and see if I can rouse him from his obvious
gloom. Men like him wake the predator in me. I run my fingers through my
hair and straighten my dress, a sleek, silky sheath, and, balancing my
glass, snake through the dancing crowd.

"Mind if I sit down?"

His head snaps up and a startled look turns to me. He has clearly been miles
away with his thoughts.
"Aren't there any other tables?"
Luckily for me, all the other booths are occupied.
"No, this is the only one. I hate standing at the bar. Gives people the
impression I'm looking for a fast fuck."  I wait for his reaction.
My blunt response seems to shock him for just a second, but then a glimpse
of a smile appears on his face.
"And you're not?"
"No. Not tonight anyway. So, may I?" I point to the empty chair next to him.
"Yes, but I won't be making pleasant company, I'm afraid."
"Actually I like a man who doesn't tell me his life story just because we
share a table."
"Oh, I won't be doing that, I promise." He smiles sadly at me as I pull the
chair up and ease myself down on it gracefully - quite a feat in a tight
dress.
I notice his eyes. Despite the poor light I can see that they are a striking
blue.
"Do you mind if I smoke?" Another test. I pull out a pack of cigarettes.
"You shouldn't. It's bad for you." But he gives me a light nonetheless.
"I know, but we all have our vices, don't we? Besides, life is short."
Uh oh, mistake. His smile disappears and his face becomes a carefully
controlled mask.
His little laugh sounds bitter.
"True."
He sips his drink. It must be a special brand - looks like wine but it seems
to be much thicker. It may be old port. I don't drink the stuff myself, it's
too sweet for my taste, so I wouldn't know.
For a while I regard him silently through puffs of smoke, and I can sense
that old-familiar tingling in my stomach. This man is a challenge. And I
*love* a challenge.
"Care for a dance?" I say, trying to sound as nonchalantly as possible.
He musters me for a moment, but his face remains unreadable. I force myself
to sit still and endure his stare, even though I feel increasingly
uncomfortable. I'm preparing myself mentally to hear him tell me to get
lost.
But he reaches out his hand, and, without a word, leads me to the dance
floor.
Thankfully, it's a slow number, and I find myself in his arms, our bodies
being pressed against each other by the throng of other couples. He feels
cool. Strange, the heat in this place is ridiculous.
Aw, what the hell do you care, I chide myself. Enjoy it while it lasts.
I close my eyes as we sway to the sensual beat. I notice his fragrance - one
of the more expensive brands, rich and earthy.
Oh god, I think as the first images of his hands on my skin flash through my
mind. Get a grip on yourself!
This guy doesn't want anything from you.
But wait! His hands slide lower. Not as low as to be too obvious, but I feel
him pull me a littler tighter against him. I notice that I'm obviously not
the only one who is affected by the music.
Again he smiles at me, and I feel all reservations I might have had -there
weren't many to start with - slip away.
"How about going somewhere less crowded?" He whispers into my ear.
His voice - low and hoarse with arousal- sends shivers down my spine and I
nod mutely. My clearly overactive imagination imagines tiny golden flames in
his eyes. A trick of the light, nothing more.
He leads the way outside and we walk silently side by side, not even our
fingers touching. We both know what will happen later. No names, no phone
numbers, no false promises. Just two lonely people quenching mutual desires.
We stop at the entrance to a hotel. An expensive one.
His eyes ask silently and I nod. The pact is sealed and there will be no
turning back now.
He retrieves his key (the receptionist greets him by name - if it's his real
one, he is from a very old family line) and we ride the elevator in silence.
It is odd. We don't need any words to know each other's thoughts.
He unlocks the door and I step inside. It is the penthouse suite and I have
always dreamed of staying in such a place. But now I don't even notice what
the room looks like. He closes the door and I hold my breath as he steps up
behind me. Then his lips are on my neck. The sheer shock of his cool touch!
How can anyone be this cold?
I moan as his hands cup my breasts from behind. He rubs his thumbs lightly
over my nipples and they harden against his touch. But what really drives me
crazy are his kisses down my neck. He keeps licking up and down, sucking the
flesh between his teeth. Are there neck fetishists, I wonder. But it feels
wonderful. My knees go weak and he scoops me up in his arms and carries me
over to the bed.
He lays me down and kneels on the bed next to me. Again I think I see some
gold in his blue eyes. I forget about that at once when his mouth descends
onto mine. God, this is good!
As fast as possible we shed our clothes. I need to feel him, touch him. In
feverish need I pull him down on me. His hardness presses against my belly,
as he kisses my breasts and kneads my buttocks with his hands. His thigh
slides between my legs and I can feel the urgency in his movements. The heat
between my legs gets unbearable. I need him to touch me there. I groan as
his fingers finally part me and stroke me. I buck against his hand and his
fingers slide into my moist core.
Oh yes! I come at his very first strokes and I shake violently in his arms.
But it is not enough. I want to feel him inside me. I slide my legs around
his back, guiding him into me. His strokes are fierce and forceful. This is
no tender love-making, this is raw and pure. He rears up over me, and
something like a growl emanates from his chest. Then he slumps down on me,
capturing my lips in an almost brutal kiss. His lips wander back to my
throat and he locks his mouth over my jugular, sucking fiercely. What is he
doing?! Ouch! My god, he's bitten me!
.... I sense sadness ... he has lost someone he loved ... no, he has killed
h...

***
I wake with his arms protectively around me.
Did I pass out? I have heard of what people call "la petite mort" but never
experienced it myself. Wow!
I don't remember much, only that it was the most incredible sex I ever had.
He whispers my name and the way he pronounces it, makes the heat rise again
in my groin.
Funny, I don't remember ever telling him my name.
But somehow I know his name too.
I turn and kiss him deeply.
"Lucien," I breathe against his ear, and he turns and I know that this night
will never end.

~ The End ~

Surprised? Then I got what I wanted. *Evil, evil grin*


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