Hi All!
Here is a story I wrote a while ago but am just getting around to posting. It's what you
might call a dark, romantic story. At least my version of what I think is romantic, which
will most probably be much different than yours. <g> It involves Nick and a woman
and is sort of written as a flashback, kind of what I imagine life to have been like for
Nick at one point in time or another.
Anyway, enough of my babbling... please, please let me know what you think, good or bad
and hopefully, if I've done my job you should get a little shiver down your spine by the
last line (or not <g>). Enjoy! I'm also posting this to the Adult FKFIC list so you
may get two copies of this.
I give permission to add this to the JADFE archive.
Implicit sex: Nick/f
ONCE UPON A TIME...
by Izabela Popowicz
Copyright 1997
There have been many tales passed on through time, of creatures that walk this earth.
Creatures that both appeal to our deepest fears and unleash hidden desires we never knew
were ours. This is a story of such a creature.
His name was Nicholas deBrabant and this story spans but a mere moment in the history of
his existence. He was a creature unlike any you have ever known. A creature who wore the
mask of a sweet, yet lusty admirer, but whose heart and mind were consumed with an
unquenchable thirst for human blood.
He killed not just as a matter-of-fact, but instead took great care with the fancies of
his victims. He fulfilled their every whim and wish before the moment when he finally took
them. Each one utterly satiated before they died sweetly and peacefully in his arms. It
has been said that no one had ever killed with such passion as our dear Nicholas.
Each night he may take two, sometimes three, of these luscious beauties to his bed, to
seduce, enchant and satisfy. His skills as a lover were unsurpassed and they quickly
became well known in the chatter that took place among the young girls that resided in his
village. It was often wondered what became of those considered lucky enough to be invited
to his bed, but these questions were often dismissed when compared with the possibilities
and pleasures that one night with Monsieur deBrabant might bring.
His looks were often not unnoticed. Wide, curious eyes would stop in the streets to admire
his visage and form. They would delight endlessly in the silky, gold-spun locks framing
his deceptively innocent, angelic face. Many of his admirers tried to imagine how one as
kind and noble looking could be capable of the raunchy acts of love that he was quickly
becoming famous for.
As for his form, it was one that every lady who crossed his path would desire to reach out
and explore in infinite detail. His elegant limbs and muscular structure would inevitably
cause the cheeks of many young girls to blush in embarrassment. Of course the rosy hues
that marked their flesh would only serve to enflame the ravenous hunger for blood that
lingered within the depths of Nicholas's soul. In fact, the healthier the blush, the more
ardently our dear Nicholas would pursue his intended's.
With the virgins he would be gentle and patient, taking great care to ensure that their
first and last foray into the world of love would prove to be exquisitely sensual and
satisfying. Their needs and desires were always foremost in his mind. He opened their
hearts, minds and bodies to pleasures which they had never known possible. His kisses,
first delicate, then passionate, pulled at the unfulfilled needs that stirred just beneath
their pure, untouched surfaces. His skilled hands and fingers explored their flesh,
stroking and caressing their trembling, unknowing bodies in an effort to call forth the
passions which were so eager to be released from their prisons.
And when it came time for him to take them, he would pull them close, enveloping their
soft, yielding bodies in his powerful arms and carefully break through their tender necks
allowing their blood to fill him. Fill him with their life. He would taste in the blood
their first moments of ecstasy and they would feel his come back through him.
With the more wanton ladies that took to his bed, he did not need to be patient, or
gentle, or even delicate. With these lovers he would allow himself to be the voracious
beast that raged within. Oh, he was never cruel, or violent, or forceful. No, he was
merely intense, bold, and powerful. He would tease them, play with them, and allow them to
witness his hunger for them. They in turn would enchant him and seduce him, each quickly
becoming lost in the other's spell. In the end, neither more powerful than the other. Both
captured by what the other had to offer. At these moments, he struck with an urgency, a
craving that threatened to boil over. Their blood always tasted richer, hotter, though it
lacked much of the sweetness of the purer one's blood. Nicholas reveled in their
differences. He savored each victim's own unique scent and flavor, losing himself in the
life of each mortal from which he drank.
Many of the lustier, more worldly ladies had discovered what our Nicholas was, and to his
complete surprise, would hunt him down and beg to be taken by him. To his utter amazement
they would ask to die by his hands. Their lives had seemingly become unbearable and they
could not conceive of a sweeter way to die and in so doing, put an end their misery. Of
course... many more did not.
Now to fully and truly comprehend the power of this magnificent creature and the effect
that killer and victim had on each other, it is necessary to recount the story of
Madelaine and the fateful night when her life would be changed forever.
It was on a night such as this one, full of the brightness of countless stars, clear and
warm, when Nicholas spotted a young woman, ravishingly beautiful. Her hair, a deep,
radiant auburn, fell in a mirade of curls down the length of her back, her eyes as green
and wild as a feline's and her complexion was that of creamy, white porcelain blushed with
just the slightest hint of the wine which surged through her veins. She glanced in his
direction for a greater part of the evening. Or more to the point, she watched him
incessantly and when her eyes played over the sight of him, he felt his body respond in
human ways and very inhuman ways. Then slowly, she journeyed across the room, her scent
growing stronger with each approaching step. Nicholas' senses were alive. Each one
sharpened incredibly by her mere presence.
When she finally reached him, she stood before him, brought her hand up and quite gently
placed a finger upon his sweetly parted lips.
"So," she smiled wickedly, "you are the Nicholas deBrabant that I have
heard the others speak of?"
"And what if I am?" he replied teasingly, as she traced her finger down from his
lips, past his chin, and along the curve of his throat.
"Well, then that would make you the one that I am looking for," she responded,
finally laying both her hands upon his chest.
"And what is it that causes you to seek me out, milady?" he asked, now covering
her hands with his own.
"Why, your reputation, dear Nicholas. I don't like being coy. I find it highly
unattractive. Therefore, I will tell you straight out why it is that I have sought you
out. I go by the name of Madelaine and I wish for you to make love to me. I wish for you,
my kind sir, to take me to your bedchamber," she stated intently.
Nicholas paused, at first startled by her forthrightness and then intrigued by the request
which was made of him.
"If you are as aware of my reputation as you claim to be milady, then you must know
that those which enter my bedchamber never leave it," he stated, expecting her to
take her leave of him.
"Oh, but I have no wish to ever leave your bed or your arms. No, I do so want to
remain with you. Forever," she answered him.
Nicholas looked into her eyes, her face sweet and yet tinged ever so slightly with an
ardor that reached to the very soul he felt he did not possess. He removed his hands from
hers and crooked his arm so that she may take it. And take it she did.
Then he escorted the lush, fatal beauty up the long, carpeted, circular staircase to one
of the many upstairs bedrooms and swiftly closed the door behind them when they entered.
They stood together in the room, intent on each other, allowing their own individual
passions and appetites to rise to the surface. Madelaine reached up to caress the contours
of Nicholas's face, finding that the uncommon texture of his skin was greatly overshadowed
by the coldness of it. She smiled once again.
"Does the heat of my flesh burn into yours, milord? Can you feel my desire build? Can
you feel it grow as strong and insistent as yours?" she asked, purposely stoking the
flames of his hunger.
In answer to her questions, Nicholas grasped her wrist and lowered it from his face. Then,
before her eyes could see him move, he spun her around, pinning her small, supple form
against the door through which they had entered. Her heart raced wildly and her breathe
caught in her throat. His mouth was upon her in an instant, his soft, pliable lips
scorching her, while she strained against the powerful creature which held her there. His
kisses all but caused her to lose consciousness. And when she felt the wetness of his
tongue invade her mouth she feared the loss of her mind as well. If it were not for the
support of the wall behind her and Nicholas's firmness, she would have long ago fallen to
the floor before him. As he broke away from her, he smiled at her with such a wickedness
that it caused the most crimson blush to stain her cheeks.
"So, now milady, tell me, did my kisses burn you as sweetly as the heat in your veins
burned through me earlier?" he whispered tauntingly in her ear, his lips barely
touching the tender lobe.
Madelaine responded with a shiver and a smile, which quickly turned to a lusty laugh,
which then infected our poor Nicholas, who began struggling valiantly against the ensuing
silliness.
"Oh, but milord, you know perfectly well that merely being in your presence causes my
bosoms to heave with longing for you," she said, with only a slight note of
seriousness in her voice. This rather raunchy comment caused Nicholas' eyes to drift
downward and fix upon the heaving bosoms to which Madelaine had just alluded to.
As he took in the sight of her flushed skin, which was now as ruby as a rose, his hands,
slowly and carefully, in fact almost tauntingly, pulled at the long, smooth laces which
bound her dress. The silken fabric slid down to the floor in a crumpled heap, leaving its'
mistress clad only in her girdle and surcoat. The great care with which he'd unlaced her
dress was now gone though and replaced by something much more fierce. He ripped and tore
at the remainder of her clothing, leaving it to join its' predecessor in small, scattered
shreds upon the floor.
Her nakedness was now acutely palpable and as her breathe caught in her throat, once
again, so did Nicholas' hands catch her waist. But she abruptly pushed them aside and left
him to make her way over to the large, heavily blanketed bed. Without a word she climbed
upon it, kneeling at the edge and crooking her finger, called to her virulent lover as he
stood across the room from her.
"Come to me Nicholas," she bid him. Before she could breathe her next breathe,
he was before her.
"It is now my turn to dispose you of your garments. To delight in the sight of your
flesh," she added mischievously.
Her fine, delicate hands reached out and untied the handsome, richly woven jacket he wore,
exposing, beneath it, his pourpoint and girdle. She worked on these pieces next, soon
leaving him in only his shirt and undergarments. He assisted her by removing the shirt for
her and allowing her hands to lay upon his chest. She skimmed the surface of him, tracing
long lines with her fingers along the contours of his muscular frame, causing him to tense
in response to her touch. She then slipped her hands farther down the length of his form,
pausing every now and again to enjoy the look and feel of his cold, naked flesh. Next, he
watched her patiently as her fingers loosened the points of his hose causing them, along
with the breeches which held them in place, to fall to the floor, leaving our Nicholas in
quite the state to behold.
Then her hands, once again, found their mark and set about to arouse his interests. She
stroked him firmly, feeling him swell and grow hard against the pressure of her small, yet
skilled, hand.
"Oh my dearest Nicholas, with virtues such as yours, I may never let you leave the
confines of my womb," she threatened.
"Now, is that a promise milady?" he asked with a lift of his eyebrow.
"Hmm... if your member feels as good inside me as it looks to my eyes, then yes
indeed, you may consider that a promise," she answered him playfully.
Then suddenly, her face grew intense, though not entirely serious, and her shimmering
green eyes flamed with passion.
"Tell me how you want me Nicholas. Tell me how you want to taste me. Feel my essence
fill you, flood your senses with the pungent fruits of my flesh. Can you hear the
seductive flow of my blood? Do my veins call out to the insistent, throbbing pulse of your
thirst? Tell me Nicholas. Whisper it in my ear," she spoke quietly, yet with an
urgency that betrayed her need for him.
"But I *do* want you milady. I feel all that you speak of and more. Much more,"
he stated, his bloodlust ignited by her words.
This time, when he looked at her, his eyes were aflame with his want for her, his hunger
for her. Their color startled and thrilled her. He threw her down upon the bed and quickly
covered her body with his, letting her feel him against her thigh.
"Now, it is your turn to tell of how you want me. How deeply does your desire run for
me?" he asked.
Her breaths came quickly now, literally forcing out the deep, low moans that escaped her
and assaulted Nicholas. He slid his hand between her lush, creamy thighs and caught one of
her sweetly stiffened nipples in his mouth. Her long, smooth back arched in response to
his attentions, while her heat lit a fire within him that was undeniable.
"So is this what you desire, milady?" his voice now thick and low with his
unbearable lust for her.
"Oh, yes Nicholas! Please...!" was all she could manage through the tears that
her need and passion had called up in her. This was her one wish come to fruition and she
begged for its completion.
He kissed the tears as they ran down her cheeks and when he reached her open mouth she
felt the long, sharp points of his fangs. Then she felt him enter her. His hardness
filling her up, moving inside her body. Her mind was aswim with emotion.
"Please, take me now, Nicholas, my love!" she exclaimed through sharp, frantic
cries.
Nicholas heard her voice cut through the current of sound that her beating heart was
making.
"Tighter Nicholas, hold me tighter!" she begged.
He pulled her close and wrapped himself around her, encasing her tightly in his arms. Her
scent overwhelmed him. It was sweet and heady. She had moved her head to the side for him
and his eyes now focused on her enticingly exposed neck. He wanted her so badly he thought
he could taste the blood right through her soft, silken skin. It called to every cell,
every vein, every depth of his body and soul. He pulled his head back and then lowered it,
his teeth knowing precisely the point to strike, precisely the vein to puncture.
Her body was crushed even tighter still against him as it reared up from the force of his
bite. She cried out in pain and ecstasy when he tore through her soft, delicate flesh and
her blood instantly flooded his mouth. It was rich with her life and tasted like nectar
from the ripest fruit. The heat of her blood warmed him as it coursed through his veins.
He held her to him so tightly that neither knew where one began and the other ended. They
were melded together. Joined as one body and soul. He drank deeply of her, taking as much
blood as her body had to give him. And as he heard her heart slow in its rhythm he heard,
with it, her final words, the words she was no longer able to speak... "Thank you
Nicholas, thank you my love."
And so it was, night after night, that our dear Nicholas fed, some mortals affecting him
more deeply than others. Some, perhaps, even changing the course of his existence. It is
beyond our abilities to foretell the future, but many of us may take comfort in the
knowledge that our dark knight is somewhere out there. Waiting for us.
The End
Izzy <Izabela@oanet.com>
A Child of the Knight
Dark Knightie / GWDFC / UFer / Ravenette / Co-Founder of the Knightstick Brigade and the
Unholy Alliance
"Then maybe you'd like to die a little" - NK in FtB
Rage Against the Dying of the Knight!!!