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

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!!!