Dream a Little Dream of Me - Locked to Cesare (Late September)

[greenevoices]

Imogen's been offered a job, and she thinks she'll take it. Not that she particularly wants to spend her days teaching magical teenagers how to sightread--as someone who's only barely in her twenties herself, she thinks that's far below her--but because the pay is decent and, combined with her weekly performances at the Angelo, it means she might even be able to move out of her aunt and uncle's house. Or at least start paying rent.

Two days after her meeting with Sylvia Redbright, Imogen is back under the spotlight at the Angelo. She's "gifted," whatever that means. Something about her voice is magical. It should be earth-shattering news, but somehow it makes sense as much as anything in a world that is suddenly peopled by witches and vampires in addition to regular humans makes sense. It seems right.

Halfway through her set, another person walks into the lounge. Imogen is too much of a professional to register her surprise, but it's actually the first time that Cesare Borgia, her mysterious employer and benefactor, has come to see her sing. She smiles to herself. Gifted, huh?

Between songs, she whispers something in the ear of the pianist, and he signals to the rest of the band. They're going to change things up a bit.

Watch on YouTube

Comments

[longterm]

"Oh," Cesare grins and quirks an eyebrow. That changes everything. Suddenly they're just two supernaturals talking about their world. Suddenly everything is so much simpler.

"What can you do?" he asks, the same way you ask a magician to show you a trick. "Fire? Invisibility?" He pauses and grins, clearly joking with his next words. "Mind control?" Apparently he truly has no idea.

[greenevoices]

“We’re still trying to figure that out. I’m a bit new at this.” Imogen smiles uncomfortably. Change the subject, change the subject...

“So you’re actually a vampire? Hundreds of years old, can’t go in the sunlight or eat garlic or anything?”

[longterm]

"I can go into the sunlight as long as I wear this." He gently taps the signet ring on his right ring finger, carefully avoiding to mention any of the pieces of moonlight jewelry on him. Cesare is not the type of person to take risks by only wearing one piece. In fact, rumours abound that he actually has a moonlight gold filling. Whether that's exaggeration or entirely true, Cesare will never clarify.

"But not everyone here can. Why do you think this hotel has such great blackout curtains?" He flashes her a smile, trying to focus on the conversation and not how fantastic she looks.

[greenevoices]

Imogen tries not to laugh. “A magic ring? Do you sleep in a coffin and vant to suck my blood, too?” Her Transylvanian accent could use a bit of work.

This is all ridiculous and part of her still doesn’t quite believe it, despite all she’s seen in the last few weeks. Vampires and werewolves and witches and metahumans. Hell, probably mermaids and pixies too.

“...are there more vampires in the hotel? Other than you?”

[longterm]

Cesare laughs a little awkwardly because the truth is he really does want to drink from her.

"I sleep in a bed, though you are welcome to check that if you like." Wow, subtle, Cesare. Normally he's considerably smoother than that. What's happening? Why is he so nervous? He tries to move on and takes another swig of his drink.

"See that man over there who looks in his sixties? The one drinking port? He's only ninety or so. And that young thing at the bar, wearing all the sequins? One of my elders."

[greenevoices]

Well, that’s a bit forward. In her limited interactions with Cesare before, Imogen had always felt like he was in complete control of things. Now the dynamic has shifted. She realizes, suddenly, that she holds power over him.

And she doesn’t deny that she’s been intensely attracted to him since the night he brought her back to the hotel. She’d been attacked by vampires and now she wants to go to bed with one.

“Are they all vampires? Everyone who’s come to see me?” She asks, curiously. “They’re a hell of a lot better dressed than the ones who tried to kill me last month. How many of you are there?”

[longterm]

He nods, smiling at her then laughs a little too loudly at her joke. Suddenly Imogen is quite frankly hilarious. She's certainly exceedingly charming.

"Not all of them but a lot. At least half of the guests here are of the vampiric variety. You could call it a haunt of theirs." He internally cringes as he says it. Oh my god, Cesare. Why are you acting like a dork? Get it together.

"As for as many there are in the world, it's difficult to say. We're a secretive bunch, but there are certainly quite a lot of us. How much do you know about meta-humans?"

[greenevoices]

The power over him she seems to have is a bit disconcerting, but Imogen finds herself completely disarmed by his bad jokes and awkward attempts at flirting. She smiles, laughs a little herself.

“Not much,” she admits. “I got a pamphlet and a job offer. They want to keep me on as a vocal coach—to keep an eye on me, probably. It’s only been a few days since I found out about any of this. I thought I’d been hallucinating when that girl—when I got attacked. Now it makes sense.”

[longterm]

He smiles as he listens carefully to her words, paying close attention. His brow furrows and he wants to reach out for her hand. Is he allowed to touch her hand? Would that be ok? He's questioning himself all of a sudden.

He settles for leaning in a little and placing his hand on the table.

"Are you worried?" He doesn't want her to worry. He wants her to be happy, enjoying the supernatural world around her, ideally with him.

[greenevoices]

Is she worried?

“A little,” Imogen admits. “Obviously it’s not all....witch schools and really nice hotels.” She shrugs, then smiles. Dazzlingly. “But I’ve got people to show me the ropes. I’m a quick study.”

[longterm]

Cesare grins when she says she's a quick study. Of course she's smart. He totally knew she was smart. He's not at all surprised.

"It can be all witch schools and nice hotels, if you would like it to be..." After all, that's what his life is. He's had years to craft it carefully and invite people along for the ride. He could easily make things more comfortable for her.

[greenevoices]

Imogen’s glass has gone empty without her realizing it, but a waiter suddenly appears at her elbow to refill it. That gives her enough time and distraction for her to process what Cesare said. Is the flirting just getting intense, or is he making a real offer?

She says, coyly, “But what if I want to see more? As long as it doesn’t try to kill me.”

[longterm]

To be totally honest, it's a bit of both. Cesare is very much a flirt, but he doesn't make claims or suggestions unless he can back them up. This time he very much can. What would be one more girl staying in his hotel?

"Well, there is certainly plenty to see..." He gives her a smile and takes a swig of his wine. "And who am I to tell you what you can and cannot experiment with?"

[greenevoices]

“Why Cesare,” Imogen smiles over the rim of her glass, “are you flirting with me?”

Of course he is. But this is part of the game, after all.

“And how should I experiment?”

[longterm]

For the first time in two hundred years, Cesare blushes. He smiles though, keeping his gaze fixed on her.

"Would it be a problem if I were?" Though from how she's reacting, he gathers he already knows the answer. He reaches for her hand and turns it over, his thumb pressed against her wrist. He looks down at it thumb tracing absent-mindedly over the vein there.

"Well, to start I should tell you that the act of drinking is mutually enjoyable."

[greenevoices]

"It wasn't all that enjoyable when I was attacked in a dark alley," Imogen points out, but she's smiling. Maybe it's the champagne or the thrill of power still left in the air after her performance or the willing company. Maybe it's all three. Whatever it is, Cesare's touch sends a shiver through her and she's suddenly completely on board with sleeping with her boss.

Imogen leans over and whispers, her lips just brushing the shell of his ear, "let's get out of here."

Not twenty minutes later and her expensive little cocktail dress is in a pile on the floor of Cesare's bedroom, its zipper torn in his haste to get it off her. She hadn't been wearing much underneath. Cesare's shirt and trousers are crumpled next to the dress, and Imogen finds herself on her knees in front of him, practicing a skill she hasn't needed to use in a long time. It's rough, sloppy, chaotic.

And she likes it this way.

[longterm]

Cesare's breathing is heavy, his teeth gritted and his pupils wide as he watches Imogen. To be honest, he had been pleasantly surprised when she'd dropped to her knees, his nerves jolting a little like he had a crush. It was a confusing sensation for him but he wasn't complaining, particularly considering what she was now doing for him.

He places his palm to her neck so that he can feel her pulse, holding her there for a moment before growling and pulling her up to turn her around with her back to him. One hand immediately reaches between her legs while the other brushes her hair away from her neck.

"You'll enjoy this. Trust me," he speaks surprisingly softly against the shell of her ear.

[greenevoices]

No good?

Imogen feels like she’s barely just begun to show Cesare how clever her mouth can be even when she isn’t singing before she is being pulled up and bent over. His fingers are cool and it makes her shiver.

“I trust you,” she murmurs back, though internally she can feel the familiar panic rising.

[longterm]

She was great, really great, but Cesare is impatient. He hasn't had blood in a few days and there's something about her that just makes him want to taste her. He keeps thinking about the flavour of her and how she'll react once his teeth sink in. It's odd for him. He'd swear he isn't usually this besotted...

He plants some quick kisses along the back of her neck and down her spine before he pushes into her. As he begins to move his hips, he gently scrapes his teeth along the skin of her neck, definitely not enough to draw blood or even hurt, but enough to get her used to the idea.

[greenevoices]

Imogen’s small breasts move in time with his thrusts as she tries to show him exactly how she wants it. He feels so solid inside of her but strangely cool and if she had time for deeper introspective thought she would be comparing the experience of being fucked by a vampire in a fancy hotel with previous sexual encounters.

She doesn’t.

Instead she makes soft, hungry noises as he begins to play close attention to her neck. She knows what’s coming, but it’s hard to feel afraid of it anymore.

[longterm]

It doesn't take long before Cesare sinks his teeth into her, but as soon as he clamps down he regrets it. The taste is familiar, after all how could he forget it? But it's been many many years. He had avoided drinking from fae. He had to, for the sake of his sanity. He had seen so many of his friends lose their senses because of it. Yet here he was, drinking from fae. Fuck.

His eyes widen for a second in shock and horror before closing as he can't help but give in and drink from her. Just a little, he thinks. Then I'll stop. Though deep down he doesn't really know how true that is.

[greenevoices]

The bite hurts, but this time its pleasure mixed with pain. Imogen gasps at the sudden burning in her neck and then moans.

“Harder,” she commands, not realizing the power in her words.

“Fuck me harder.”

[longterm]

He words are...compelling and before Cesare can even think about it he's quickening the pace of his hips. His hands immediately reach for her waist to pull her in towards him and increase the power of his thrusts. He doesn't speak. He can't. He's not even really breathing, too caught up in her blood and riding the high as he just keeps drinking in one long breath.

It takes worryingly long before he comes to his senses and thinks to pull away, but he doesn't. Oh, what's one more gulp? What harm could it do? Just a little longer...

[greenevoices]

Imogen can feel something shift in the air. Later, when she has come to terms with her magic and her birthright, she’ll recognize the compulsion magic for what it is. Maybe even revel in it. But now she just knows that commanding Cesare, being obeyed by someone who had seemed so distant and unreachable before, is intoxicating. Her eyes are dilated with sex and power, as he drives even harder into her. ”More,” she commands.

She can feel the blood leaving her, but for some reason she’s not worried. She knows, without knowing why, that Cesare cannot cause her permanent harm. She can put a stop to it whenever she wants.

[longterm]

It is as he carries out her commands instinctively that it clicks as to what is going on. Fae magic. He hadn't guarded himself against it, hadn't even thought to with her, this bright eyed ingenue who was still learning about the fantastical world. But this is unmistakable and he pulls himself away with a struggle, gritting his teeth and balling his hands into fists.

"Fuck!!" he yells before half-stomping, half-running to the bathroom and locking himself in there so that he can recover. He leans over the sink, his breathing heavy and looks up at himself in the mirror. His eyes are black, the telltale sign of fae, while blood drips down his chin and neck. He runs the tap and immediately starts trying to wash the blood off.