For all of your flair, even *this* seemed a bit “old school” for a rascal like yourself. I appreciate the cursive, even if it’s not your forte. Tumeric and sage hit my nostrils, as I unroll the parchment, “Your presence is requested of utmost importance, Eridæus ‘The Tiger’ Akyorotets.”
You approach the manor, once white and pure now darkened and dim. Plague and death have overcome it, and I stand in wait. The mask of a horned Arcana obscures my face; ebony cape, and leather, my attire. My clawed hand, stained with blood, takes yours of flesh, “Welcome, mortal.”
You hide so much, but it’s the small things that give you away. If you’re going to play the role of the arachnid, you should not wrap your arm around your “cricket” like that. Further, we travel down into your vast web; “predator and prey” blur into suitor and mate.
I’ve pinned you, trapped onto my bed with one golden chain around your wrist.
“Lutzokh, it’s uncomfortable.”
“Poor you, mortal,” I gloat, watching you squirm as I lean forward and pull my lips back in a smile, “If only you could get out.”
“The key.” your gaze pierces through me.
I see you falter despite your mask. You know you’re crossing the line with me and your personal feelings break through your facade.
“Do you think you can order me, mortal?” you ask, trailing your claw down my cheek.
“I am ordering you,” I reply, “I won’t bow to you.”
Those silver eyes of yours dilate like a tiger’s in wait to pounce. How easy it is to see your auburn hair as their orange pelt, hidden so well in the shadows and waiting for me to turn my back.
I press my claw against your throat, “Try me, tiger.”
It pleases my soul to know we've traveled so far in our passage together that we know how to read each other.
Your little movements say so much as I trail my hand towards your mask and take it off, revealing your face, "I prefer seeing your eyes, Count Lucio."
“Hands off the goods,” I finally pin that free hand of yours down. As l undress you, your laughter and smile remind me why I am glad you found me when I was in my worst state. I tear through your clothes and kiss your body; you’re all mine tonight.
Regardless of the forces upon it, a tree stands its ground even if the winds blow it over in the end. You exert all your force on me, drowning me in pleasure, but I won't waver. My roots plunging deep into your soil, I am forever with you, Lutzokh Lucio.