borgiafatale

Eric

Lucrezia did not take Eric's advice and leave her silver at home. But she did have the silver knife inside her purse with absolutely no intention of bringing it out unless it was a matter of life and death. After talking to Michael (and then, inevitably, Cesare, because Michael simply couldn't keep anything from her brother), she was even more wary of the idea of vampires than she'd been before. Her brother had also very intentionally not warned her away from them, and she was smart enough to know that he probably saw how she might be useful. And that didn't bother her. She was a Borgia, after all. And she had a lot of anger and unrest at the moment. Best to distract herself. And finding out more about vampires seemed like an awfully good distraction. As did finding out more about her brother's connection to vampires, which he hadn't exactly been forthcoming about.

So she went back to the Blood Diamond one night. Alone, this time. It was a warm night, one of the first in a while, and so she was wearing a white fluttery dress spotted with red cherry blossoms, and red heels. She wondered if there was something she should or should not wear to look more or less like a snack. She had no idea. Would a tight black leather dress have been better or worse?

She garnered a few looks as she walked in, going to the bar. She ordered an old fashioned, and looked up to the balcony, wondering if she would see Eric. She supposed she could ask for him, though she wanted to look around a bit first.

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"Two," Lucrezia corrected. "You asked me about my relationship with my husband, and then you asked me what I wanted."

She crossed her legs. "You were a viking," she repeated. Did some mental math. Well that was... impressive. "How did you become a vampire?"

"You'd asked me -" Eric quickly played the conversation back through his mind, with perfect clarity, thanks to vampiric memory, "three. But I'll humor you. I was chosen. By a vampire much superior to any other in London." Including himself.

"Ah yes, I suppose I did answer one question before we made the deal," Lucrezia conceded, but was pleased he decided to answer her anyway. And then, to his answer - "I imagine he must have been." Which was intended as a compliment. "Is he still, ah, around?"

"He's still alive," Eric confirmed, amused at her phrasing. How fucking delicate. "You owe me two. Have you cheated on him since?"

Lucrezia wasn't sure if vampires counted as "alive" though that seemed a particularly rude inquiry.

"No," she said, without elaborating. She wished she had a better answer. She should have cheated in Milan. Too bad male models were so fucking dull.

Eric's fingers brushed against her hair again, and he smiled. "Do you want to?"

That was his second question, but it was a good one, and it was as much question as invitation.

Even she felt her pulse speed up at that, and so she knew that he could.

She answered in a call back to his earlier answer. "With you, or in general?

Eric smiled at her comeback. "I'll owe you an extra question." Which meant, of course, both.

There were reasons that she hadn't. Not really looking. Wanting to maintain the moral high ground. Not wanting things to go as they had last time. After all, look what had happened to Paul. Not to mention...

She thought of the baby she lost, and looked down at her hands briefly, before looking up at him.

"Yes," she said quietly. Because she did want. She wanted very much.

Eric took that to mean a yes to both. He shifted closer, very aware of how big he was compared to her, and moved his hand to cradle her jaw, thumb riding down her throat. "Yes?"

Lucrezia let out a breathless, slightly nervous laugh. "You can feel my heart beating, can't you?"

"Feel, and hear," Eric confirmed, his thumb riding back up her throat. An elevated heartbeat could mean a great many things.

"Do you want me?" Lucrezia asked him. Partly because she did not want to risk making a fool of herself. Partly because it would be nice to hear it, after a time of not feeling particularly desired.

"Answer me," Eric asked of her, without the power of the glamour to compel her, for all that he was looking into her eyes as he asked. If she did, she would have her own answer.

Lucrezia only looked him in the eyes now, after she'd made up her mind. There was no point in lying to herself. This was part of why she'd come here.

"Yes," she said again.

It was a much better yes on all levels, in part because she owned it in a way she had not the last one. Eric's lips ticked up into another slight, there and gone as he leaned in to kiss her, hand still on her jaw, thumb still on her throat, resting over her trachea without putting any pressure there. He kissed like he wantedto devour her, though, and he did, in every way possible.

He leaned back after a while, enough to look her in the eye again, his hand still in the same place. "Does that answer your question?"

That was a good kiss. A very, very good kiss. She looked slightly dazed. It had been some time since she'd been kissed like that.

"Can we go somewhere else?" she asked, because this was reckless, here where people might have seen that kiss. The married Borgia girl, kissing someone not her husband.

That look in her eyes, like he'd glamoured her with nothing but a kiss, that was worth every glamour he might ever pull. At her question, he pulled his hand back, stood, and held his hand out to her. "My office?"

He would not mind having her in a bed at all, no. But right now, he wanted to see whether the prospect of nothing better than an office would suit the Borgia daughter.

Lucrezia slid her hands into his. She was a bit breathless from the kiss still. "As much as I'd love for you to take me to wherever you live, I don't know that I want to wait that long," she said. "Please tell me you at least have a nice couch, though..."

"I do," Eric confirmed, and tugged her closer, his free hand sliding around her waist, to the small of her back. He brought her in against him and ducked his head, so he could speak into her ear, his voice low and promising. "But don't you like the picture of you sitting on my desk, dress pushed up, legs wrapped around my shoulders as I eat you out?"

He was pretty fucking fond of that picture himself.

Lucrezia's pulse sped up to the point she feared every vampire in the club could hear it.

"... yes," she said. "Yes, I like that picture very much."

She slid a hand onto his thigh, sliding higher, close to his groin.

If she had been anyone else, Eric would have suggested fucking her bent over the railing right then. But she was Lucrezia Borgia, and so before her hand got anywhere truly interesting, he told her, "Office is downstairs," and moved, drawing her along with him.

He did look very satisfied, but who wouldn't be, when they were about to fuck such a lovely woman.

Lucrezia stayed close to him as he led her along through the club.

God she wanted this. She needed this. She wasn't even thinking about the fact that he was a vampire, wasn't thinking about when he'd bitten her. She just wanted him, and whatever came with it she could handle.

Eric led them into the back, and to one of the doors in the hallway, into his office. He closed the door, then was kissing her again, unrestrained in his passion. He bunched up her dress skirt in his hands so he could get to her thighs, then picked her up easily, fitting her legs around his waist and heading for his desk. He had every intention of bringing that picture to very vivid life.

Lucrezia gasped when he lifted her up. He was so strong, so sure of himself, so... every single thing that Allan was not.

She was glad she was wearing nice underthings. Lacy. Red.

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