Tiny But Fierce

Her teasing paid off, encouraging Mick to shove her up against the wall and grasp her throat. Danni gasped when he raised her hands above her head, her eyes narrowing when he intentionally countered her words by grabbing one of her ties and wrapping it around her wrists.

Luckily it wasn’t one of her favourites so she didn’t mind much, but the defiance in itself was enough to make her lift her chin in provocation. Mick took the opportunity to kiss her neck and drag his fangs over her sensitive flesh, causing a shiver to slide down her spine, and he followed up by slipping his cold hand under her clothing to tease her pussy.

Danni cursed under her breath, unable to prevent her hips from needily bucking towards his touch. The sensation of his cool skin was always strange, but not in a bad way, in fact it added that extra element to the experience like another layer of perception.

He pointed out her weakness for forced vulnerability and Danni set her jaw, doing her damnedest to resist, but he was just too damn perceptive and so, so sexy…

“Predator?” she growled back, still wanting to rile her lover up further. “You’re less of a jungle cat, more of a fluffed up, domestic tom cat…”

Danni knew just how powerful Mick was, that he was indeed dangerous and not to be messed with by anyone who wanted to live, but she also understood just how much she could tease and test and get away with. He enjoyed her rebellion, even if it was all an act for the vast majority of the time.

His cool fingers traced back up her stomach, tickling the underside of her breasts through her bra material, and Danni flexed her wrists to fight against her bonds.

“Predators hunt and devour their prey, whereas you get yours handed to you on a silver platter,” she continued, goading him on. “You’re just gonna have to prove your status as a man-, or rather woman-eater, around here.”

The next thing Danni knew, she was on her back on the bed, her tied hands still held down but this time by more of Mick’s bodyweight, and he was using his free hand to wrestle her slacks and panties off her lower half. Their constant struggle against one another, the spark of conflict and attitude, was unbelievably hot.

Danni panted, wriggling underneath Mick as he fought to successfully pull her pants and underwear from her body, and when he finally let go of her wrists it was only to partly release the knot and then securely fasten her hands to the bedpost.

She was bound and exposed to a potentially dangerous vampire whom she had just insulted several times, and the thrill of adrenaline was palpable! Mick pushed her legs wide open, licked his lips, and then delved his cool tongue in between her pussy lips.

“Oh, holy fuh-…!” Danni yelped, excited that he wanted to prove her wrong in such a delicious way. “Mick!”

“If this is you implying that Josef’s the jungle cat…I can’t really say if he’ll be amused or annoyed by the comparison,” He mused with mirth until the goading continue. 

This was part of their dance and it aroused him more than he liked to admit. In the beginning he believed Josef that he was attracted to Danni because she was a mix of Caroline and Beth. The spunky and curious blond but someone who could hold her own and was dangerous but regal in her own right. And maybe that had been an element in the initial attraction but this had evolved into something more. 

Danni was her own person in his eyes. She was calculating and adventurous, She teased and prodded him with enough force to get him riled but never pushed beyond the point of it being considered suicidal. Even now, this taunting dance was them…flirting. It was their foreplay!

Moving from the wall towards the bed, he undid the knot he’d made to redid it in a way that secured her hands to the headboard. 

Seeing her laid out like that had him smirking. Even like this, he wasn’t about to deny her feisty, fiery nature. There was still danger in her…while being alluring all at once. He couldn’t deny her, and he didn’t want to be denied of her. 

Though there was a struggle as he bound and teased her, now there was a shift in the air before he dove between her legs and began to tease her pussy with his tongue. With moves of sure intent so it might not be right to call it ‘teasing’. His tongue circled around her clit before tracing invisible lines towards her inner thighs where his extended fangs pierced and sank into. Feeding more so as a reminder that even as a ‘domesticated vampire’ he wasn’t any less dangerous. And ‘eating her’ in more ways than one. 

The sensation still caused her to tense, adrenaline spiking as her natural survival instincts screamed 'Danger!', but even that was all part of the thrill ride. Less than a second later Mick's teeth were sinking into the soft flesh of her thigh and into the femoral artery below the surface. There was that familiar sharp pain at first which was almost immediately dulled by the rush of hormones and chemicals that a vamp's bite naturally produced to subdue their prey, and the wave of pleasure it caused swept through her.

"Mmm, fuck..." she murmured, but Danni was soon making a dissenting cry of protestation and dissatisfaction when Mick only drank for a short time, pulling away again and letting that drug-like feeling ebb away.

He went straight back to tonguing her clit, however, and Danni groaned again and bucked her hips. She jerked her arms in an attempt to reach down and grasp at Mick's hair for some control, but she was reminded once more that her hands were bound to the headboard. Not one to give all her control over to her lover easily, Danni was fast to change tact and wrap her legs around his head instead, grinding her cunt against his face.

"That all ya got, babe?" she panted, still mostly unafraid to push Mick's buttons and get what she needed - the thrill was worth it.

"I know, I'm amazing," Danni joked in response to Jack's complements, though her humour was self-deprecating. She never really believed it when people said nice things.

She was definitely impressed by the show Jack put on, and she leaned forward to blow out the flames before taking up the glass and swallowing a mouthful.

Michael was in the middle of painting a portrait when he felt it. 

A disturbance. 

Frowning, he cleaned his brush before placing it down. Snapped out of his musing for his current piece always put him in a bad mood. Living only with his Hell Hounds and Spirit servants, it wasn’t something that happened often. 

Feeling someone’s death has been second nature to him for far too long. He was half a millennia old, after all. He’s seen empires fall, has been close to tragic catastrophes…even been part of a few in one way or another. He’s felt the death of strangers who he’s never known as well as the the deaths of his wives and life partners, children and grandchildren….who, though carried divine blood in some form, weren’t cursed blessed with immortality like he was. 

His father was the Lord and Ruler of the Dead. 

The dying…were an interesting middle grey area. A tug and pull between the after life and, well…current life.  Everyone had their time, but as the saying sometimes went, ‘the future’s not set in stone’. Choices affect most destines. Not all, but most. 

Someone time of dying was among them, but dear Gods they were fighting! 

Michael stood and walked over to where he kept his liquor and served himself something. It was an old bottle, family that made it has been dead for generations, the printings faded, and it was in a language only he and a few scholars remembered. 

Somehow it seemed fitting to match this drink with this feeling inside of him. Taking a seat, he leaned back and focused on this feeling. Surrounded by pain and agony like nothing he’s felt in centuries!  Yet…that light of life refusing to be snuffed out. 

Placing his drink down, he goes for his sketch book and grabs the closest drawing tool and begins to sketch. As he does, he feels the appearance of new entities. Without looking up, he demands, “What is it?” 

“Sire…I’m sure you have…noticed.” The Ghost began, nervous around him as a Prince of the Underworld. Ruler over all dead to an extent, even him. 

“I was broken from my muse, so make your point.” Michael told them. 

“Your father wishes for you to act. As Lord of Hades, he is unable to do anything until this person is….dead. But they…refuse. He finds this feeling he’s feeling…irritating.”

Michel let out a dark chuckle, “Broken me from my muse, and makes the Ruler of the Dead feel irritation.” There was a pause. “Tell my father I’ll deal with her.” 

“Her. sire?” The Ghost asked, peeking over Michael’s shoulders and could see the…gruesome scene he’s creating. The reality of what’s causing this disturbance.

“Yes, her. Tell my father…she’s mine.” 

“W-what? But sire, I believe what he wanted was for you to finis-”

“The Life in this one is stronger than Death. She’ll go to him eventually. But for a while, she’s mine, understand? Now, if you’ll excuse me…I’m off to Colombia. Get out of my house, or the Hell Hounds I leave will go after the remains of your pathetic soul.” 

There was pain, agony all through her body, and she didn't even know which limb or internal organ was crying out the loudest... Her mind was a cacophony of suffering, but she had to drown it out. Danni wasn't ready to leave her kids without a mother.

But oh god, it was so tempting to let go, to let the hurting take over and drown in it instead because then it would stop. Everything would stop and she wouldn't have to feel this anymore - the physical or the emotional torture. She wouldn't have to fight... But she had to.

The guards at the prison had allowed the other inmates to attack her, to attempt to kill the blonde, and the women seemed to know somehow that she was an American cop. They were out for her blood. No doubt one of the prison staff had informed them. Why? Who fucking knew, but the guards seemed to enjoy watching as Danni was kicked and punched repeatedly, desperately trying to protect her head and vital organs.

Then those same guards had weighed in and 'rescued' her, pulling away the other women and striking them too just for the fun of it, hauling Danni out of the yard and away into one of the back rooms under the guise of protective custody. But it had been anything but protective...

Male guards in a women's prison was a huge red flag as far as Danni was concerned. There was a power dynamic and an overall attitude that leant itself to abuse of position, and the men used the system to their advantage. Four of them, one of her, in a locked room... The results weren't difficult to predict.

Danni was a fighter, but she had both her limits and her breaking point. Those men had done their best to own her body, but they would never own her will to live... Not while Danni still breathed.

She'd spent seven hours in the room, though it may as well have been seven years, and once they'd had their fill of her the guards had dragged Danni back to her cell and left her on the cold concrete, informing her that they would be arranging regular protective custody sessions for her in the future... She'd thrown up right there on the floor at the mere prospect of being put through any of that ever again, let alone repeatedly.

But she had pushed on, fought the temptation to drift into the deep sleep that called her, and tried to picture her life back in Hawaii and tell herself that she'd be back there eventually. She just had to survive... And she would weather anything for Grace and Charlie.

Minutes, or possibly hours after being dumped there, Danni did her best to at least get onto her hands and knees. That position immediately brought back awful flashes of her time under the mens' 'protection' and she wanted to empty what little she had in her stomach all over again as Danni let out a pathetic whimper and tears slid down her cheeks. She cried out as she pulled herself up using the edge of the rusted metal bed frame, her muscles on fire, and the bruises and scrapes on her knees burned against the rough floor.

She managed to pull herself up an onto the thin, crappy mattress, allowing herself to lie down again and wallow in the horrific pain that told her she was still alive.

Suddenly there was movement out of the corner of Danni's half-open, swollen eye, and she hissed as she turned her head too quickly to see the figure better as it stepped from the dark shadows. It appeared to be male - tall with wide shoulders and thick arms, and Danni was definitely not anywhere near ready to be victim to anyone else. She'd been dragged back to that hole of a cell only to be given to another attacker? This nightmare was never going to end.

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“Just a cut? Jesus fuck, Danni, the guy didn’t come at you with a pairing knife! He swung a bloody machete at you like you were some horny Crytal Lake counselor fucking in the woods, Jason Voohees style!”

Okay, so it hurt like a mother fucker, but she wasn't about to let Jack think she was a damsel in distress for him to save. He flirted with her enough as it was, and on principle Danni always forced herself to ignore his advances - she couldn't date her boss's son, no matter how perfect other people seemed to think they were for each other. It didn't matter that she was attracted to him, she simply had to keep her vagina in her panties.

"Plus he was going for my throat, so I count that as a win, quite honestly..."

She looked down at the guy's body, face down in the forest foliage.

"I should probably say thanks though, for... Y'know... Shooting him in the head an' all..."

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