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Post by Emilian Sota on Apr 25, 2008 18:26:44 GMT -5
"In a heartbeat," he said, his eyes burning into Dahlia's. His voice was firm, certain in his answer. Emilian didn't have a problem with it. Even knowing what he did, if given the chance to do it all over, he wouldn't change what he had done in that tower. "Does that make me a horrible person?" he asked, grinning. It was something he had become convinced of himself lately, he was a horrible person, no doubt in his mind.
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Post by Dahlia Alexander on Apr 25, 2008 18:36:06 GMT -5
That was obviously a rhetorical question. Dahlia chose to laugh, as though utterly enchanted with his wit. "You're asking the wrong person," she said, then blinked innocently. "I'm not the advice columnist, after all, only the interviewer. Only a woman," she added silkily. "Tell me about the fight, that display of utter masculine fury and energy," she prompted. Her hand crested Emilian's shoulder to rest against the vein in his neck. "Tell me everything."
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Post by Emilian Sota on Apr 25, 2008 18:55:53 GMT -5
Emilian should have pulled away from her long before, should have realized something was strange. Then there was her hand wandering up to his shoulder and neck. Her in general. "I was down by the lake with Adara and then a spell hit the ground, sand shot up over us. There were words," he said, to glaze over the fact that it had been Adara that had stalled the fight.
"And I threw a spell at Firebrand's shoulder, I imagine his little girlfriend didn't like having his blood on her. By the end he had a bloody mess of a shoulder and knee, my fingers were hanging on by threads," his hand twitched slightly, "And I had a gash across my face and chest. We passed out and the next thing I remember we were in the hospital wing, and that's an entirely different story."
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Post by Dahlia Alexander on Apr 25, 2008 19:00:47 GMT -5
Dahlia hung, as was proper, on his every word. Her gaze moved across his face, as though only now noticing the stripe painted along his jaw. "It makes you look almost as dangerous as you are," she said. Her hand slid back down Emilian's chest to the hem of his shirt, pausing, as though he would stop her. "Will you show me the others?" she asked.
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Post by Emilian Sota on Apr 25, 2008 19:17:38 GMT -5
It was just for the interview, right? There couldn't be any harm in just showing her. Emilian leaned away from the back of the couch and pulled up his shirt, pushing it up to show the mark going from his collarbone down to the edge of the opposite side of his ribcage. Of course, her continued ego strokes didn't hurt matters any. "This actually is the one that bothers me least," he said, tracing it lightly with his own fingers and watching their path before glancing up at her again.
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Post by Dahlia Alexander on Apr 25, 2008 19:27:48 GMT -5
Dahlia's lips curved into a knowing smile as her eyes met his, then slipped back down to his exposed chest. Her fingers echoed his, tracing from his collarbone down, then down further, purposefully tempting him. "How does it feel?" she asked, the words so vague that they were impossible not to misinterpret. "Do you hate Firebrand for doing this to you? Do you want to show him how powerful you are, the way you showed Savannah?" Dahlia's legs uncrossed, and she leaned wickedly close to Emilian, her hand continuing its southbound journey. She'd only intended to tease the information out of him, but the game was such fun that she couldn't help taking it further.
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Post by Emilian Sota on Apr 25, 2008 19:41:00 GMT -5
Emilian rather liked the feel of her hand on his bare skin, even so he ignored her first, dangerous question, and moved to the next one, a wide grin spreading across his face. "I've hated Firebrand from the first day I met him, he tried to kill me then, too. And no, he's not my type," he said, eyes flashing. He leaned forward just a little in reaction to her movements, his hand falling from his shirt to reach out and brush away a lock of hair form her face, however unneeded the action was.
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Post by Dahlia Alexander on Apr 25, 2008 19:49:04 GMT -5
"Mmm, and what is your type? Stubborn, fearful girls and little emo boys?" Dahlia's hand slipped down over the front of Emilian's trousers, and her lips curved into a smirk. "Maybe not," she said. Her smile faded to a moue of displeasure. "The interview is almost over," she said, the words softly lamenting. She brought her lips a hair's breadth from Emilian's, knowing she affected him, and knowing quite well what her hand was doing. "Is there anything else you want the world to know? Or should we just...finish things?"
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Post by Emilian Sota on Apr 25, 2008 20:05:11 GMT -5
Emilian repressed the low groan threatening to come from his throat because of her hand and all thoughts of answering her newest questions left his mind. Dahlia's lips were so close to his. The whole meeting had seemed so surreal, it was like it was a dream, it wasn't really happening. There wouldn't be any consequences if he pressed his lips to hers. At least, that was what he told himself when he did it.
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Post by Dahlia Alexander on Apr 25, 2008 20:18:32 GMT -5
Dahlia didn't need fear to feel powerful. She had a self-professed womanizer panting for her after having eagerly answered every question she posed to him. It was a power trip and a half, even if she'd known coming in that he was only a teenage boy, and didn't really stand a chance. She willingly forgot that detail. Right now, he was only an athletic male body desperate to take anything she might deign to give him.
Dahlia kissed Emilian with all the vast skill of experience. Her hands sought to torment, to make him beg for more even if he was left incapable of speech. She pushed him back against the couch, her slender body following. Petite never meant powerless.
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Post by Emilian Sota on Apr 25, 2008 20:31:39 GMT -5
Emilian couldn't hold back the low sound that came from deep in his throat when she pushed him backwards, couldn't even hold on to conscious thought when her hands roamed over him. His arms alternately circled her and searched out the shapes of her body. And he kissed her, using every ounce of skill he had acquired over the years. He knew that Dahlia had more experience than him, it was obvious in her kiss, in the touches of her hands, and it only fueled him more to show her that he knew his way around.
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Post by Dahlia Alexander on Apr 25, 2008 21:05:00 GMT -5
He was good, she had to give him that. Of course, she could feel how hard he was pushing himself to impress her; it was one of the things that made him so deliciously distracting. She encouraged him to take everything just a bit farther, to give her exactly what she wanted, until there was nothing left but heat between them.
When it was over, Dahlia's lips spread into an utterly feline grin. "Good boy," she purred. Dahlia pressed one last, sweet kiss to Emilian's lips, then pried herself off him to dress, taking her time to let him watch.
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Post by Emilian Sota on Apr 25, 2008 21:17:41 GMT -5
It was definitely a memorable experience. Emilian hadn't ever been with someone like Dahlia, and likely never would again. He lay on the couch, one arm under his head and the other draped over his stomach. A warm feeling spread through him, the afterglow, the natural high that he expected after such an encounter, as he watched her. But something else was there, too. He didn't know what it was, but something was trying to fight its way through the fog in his brain, something important.
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Post by Dahlia Alexander on Apr 25, 2008 21:22:24 GMT -5
When Dahlia was dressed, she turned back to Emilian, still lounging exactly where she'd left him. He'd probably forgotten by now that the interview had even happened. "Any parting words?" she asked with a smirk. If he volunteered another gem for the paper, perfect. If he had nothing to say, just as well, she could tell herself she left him speechless. Either way, her eyes glittered as she waited for him to gather a response.
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Post by Emilian Sota on Apr 25, 2008 21:29:29 GMT -5
Emilian was just about to say no, smile, and unlock the door for her, but then that important something hit him like a rock. His eyes widened and there was a moment where everything seemed to be deathly silent. Adara. The afterglow left suddenly, replaced with a feeling of marrow-deep dread. It felt like all of his blood drained from his body. He swung himself up off the couch and grabbed his wand. "Get out of my house, get off of my property," he said, angrily grabbing her arm to lead her down the stairs, not caring that he was still undressed.
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