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.

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[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.

[greenevoices]

...what on earth?

One minute Imogen had been in the middle of the most mind-blowing sex of her comparatively short existence, the next she’s crouched alone on the bed as Cesare flees from her.

The spell is broken and whatever power she had held over him is gone. Weakly, she claps a hand over the still-bleeding wound on her neck and realizes how lightheaded from blood loss she is. What was that?

She staggers over to the bathroom door, only to realize it’s locked. “Cesare,” she calls faintly. The world is starting to go black at the corners. How much did he drink? “What...? What’s wrong?” She’s not a bright-eyed ingenue any more, that’s for sure. Now she’s back to being the scared girl Cesare had rescued from the streets a few weeks before.

[longterm]

"You need to go," Cesare yells through the door, scrubbing at his neck. "I'll have one of the housekeepers give you a room somewhere." Somewhere that he doesn't know so that he isn't tempted to finish his drink. The less he knows about where Imogen is the better.

His brain tries to figure out what happened or why but he's too high right now to think about it. He just needs her out of here, away from her clutches, while he has some time to calm down and sober up.

[greenevoices]

“But...” Another wave of dizziness hits Imogen and she slides down to the floor, not trusting herself to stay upright. “What are you talking about?” she asks weakly, through the door. “What did I do?”

The Cesare barricading himself in the bathroom doesn’t sound at all like the Cesare she has grown used to dealing with.

[longterm]

"You fucking know," he spits with a roll of his eyes. Really, how could she even pretend she doesn't after that displya? He can't believe he was stupid enough to fall for her facade. Honestly, normally he was better than that.

"I'm telling you to get out, Imogen," he says more forcefully, seriously, his tone darkening a little. "This isn't a polite request that you have a choice about. Get your clothes on and and wait outside."

[greenevoices]

There isn’t much that Imogen can do, clothing wise. Her dress is ruined and she hadn’t worn anything underneath but her flimsy, lacy panties. Fighting the dizziness that threatens to overtake her, she puts those on and wraps herself in a blanket. She still doesn’t know what’s going on. She wants to keep fighting him, to figure out why this has happened, but she also doesn’t want to be killed by an angry vampire.

So she does what he says. She finds an armchair outside the bedroom and curls up on it, feeling miserable and utterly alone.

And that is where Cesare will find her hours later, fast asleep.

[longterm]

Cesare is in the bathroom for a while, waiting until he sobers up. Eventually, once he thinks he's decent enough, he clambers up from his space where he was sitting on the tiled floor and heads back into his room.

He's is surprised to see Imogen for a couple of reasons. For one thing, he had expected her to be gone. For another, he hadn't expected her to look like that, semi-dressed and lying on his bed covered in blood. She looks good. He freezes for a moment, trying not to let himself think about the temptation.

"Get up." he commands, using his vampiric powers of persuasion. Two can play at that game.

[greenevoices]

Imogen rises involuntarily, still clutching the blanket around her shoulders. She's covered in blood, yes, but the wound in her neck is gone, replaced only by a small bruise.

She's never been on the receiving end of magic before; her mind feels foggy, unfocused. Imogen blinks slowly at Cesare, ready to be commanded.