Fantasy/Smutt Novella


It was a book on the higher Thaumaturgic principles, one of those thick, dusty, dry things that usually just sat around on shelves looking intimidating. Victoria Fey had gotten about three quarters of the way through the volume, which was brimming with words like 'commutive translocation' and 'Walverins Theory of Metafusion', and had come to the conclusion that it may very well actually be possible to die from chronic boredom.

And it's not as though anyone else was around to occupy her fucking time, she thought bitterly. Franz and all those other slack-jawed idiots, the closest to civilised company in her pathetic little town (a sorry statement in itself) were all up north for the summer, Nelly was at market for the afternoon, her Mother was quite possibly passed out somewhere in a puddle of her own vomit, and Father was with Clarissa at an unimportant horse related something or other, a topic about which Victoria's otherwise prodigious knowledge degenerated into a haze of total indifference.

Which only left….


Victoria looked up, a sadistic tendril of anticipation curling in her stomach as the door to the kitchen opened with a clatter.

The first thing she noted about him, as she always did, was that he was always, unfailingly, covered in some sort of muck or dirt, and he stunk, always. A fact that she never failed to point out. He was wiping the sweat from his brow on his arm, so he didn't see her immediately and Victoria felt a savage sort of satisfaction that when he did eventually spy her, he hesitated and looked uncertain.

"Oh," she said with a faux smile, "Don't mind me. I was just trying to read, your repugnant stench won't bother me at all."

She relished how that muscle in his jaw twitched, as he walked over to the basin Nelly especially kept full of water for drinking purposes and scoped some into rough wooden cup. Not having the mental capacity to actually beat her in a game of wits, and probably sick of feeling like the pathetic idiot that he was whenever he did actually try to contend with her, Will had taken to ignoring her for the past months. It was vexing actually, having the one thing that had been a constant source of entertainment for her practically since conception taken away. She had been too consumed with her studies, and then finally her Collegium acceptance to actually put in a real solid effort at goading him, a fact which she now planned to remedy.

"Mmm, yes, speaking of repugnance." Victoria continued idly, laying her chin on her hands and staring at him, "Tell me William, I'm curious, is it that you're always dirty? Or rather that dirt coincidentally happens to be the colour of your skin? You do know that even Servants are allowed to Bathe yes?"

His back was to her, but she could see in the manner which he carefully laid down his cup that he couldn't help but bite to her venomous snips. She smiled, well that was easy, and prepared herself by standing up and leaning back against the table, directly opposite him.

"I. Ain't.No.Servant." He spat in a scratchy growl, turning to face her with a defiant look in his amber eyes. It was true, he wasn't. Technically they were related. Half-Siblings, the story locally was that her father had dallied with a gypsy woman in the troupe that had passed through their town shortly before he married Victoria's Mother, a local beauty of some note, whose looks Victoria almost precisely shared. When the ensuing child was left on the door step with a letter, the old man had been forced to take him in. Not that it did him much, William was thicker than two bricks, illiterate, hardly attractive, possessing of little to no magical talent (A surprise seeing as he hailed from mongrel gypsies and all) he was suited only to the physical labour of working on the farm.

Victoria nonchalantly examined her fingernails and assumed an expression of lofty boredom.

"Yes, well," she replied easily, "Being the bastard son of a backwater nobleman isn't exactly what one might call flying high is it?"

"Better then the towns Lady whore, I'd reckon" he said gruflfy, "How many times you spread 'em for Lord Russet before he fucked off back to his wife up north?"

Sourly surprised by this uncharacteristic show of 'biting wit', Victoria slid up to him with a sly look. "Why is that jealousy I detect in your dulcet whining, dear brother?" He snorted loudly, which she ignored, running her fingernails over the dark hairs of his arms. She was close enough to smell him, not just the dirt and grime and horseshit he stank of, but his scent. Of tangy sweat and something else she couldn't identify that was entirely his own.

"Have you ever been with a woman Will?" Victoria murmured her voice purposely low, almost a purr. She slid her hands up over his damp sweaty tunic and then under it to feel the velvety skin on his shoulders. Looking up into his face which was fixed firmly to a spot on the opposite side of the wall, she noted with satisfaction that his cheeks were flushed.

Victoria smirked wickedly, and stood on tip toe so that her mouth was just below his ear and her nose brushing the contours of his neck, "Do you know what it's like to be inside of her?" She whispered enticingly, her breath hot on his neck; he shivered. "Knowing she's soaking wet for you? To feel her as she climaxes around you and know what when stars burst behind her eyelids it's your name she's moaning?"

He made an involuntary noise in the back of his throat when she lightly ran her tongue along his jawline. Victoria had to admit she was impressed, she had honestly expected him to flee at that point.

Nevertheless she had him physically squirming for the first time years, which was, she thought with satisfaction, the whole point. She raked a hand over his neck to knot in his dark hair, "No?" She asked and would have been very much surprised had he contradicted her, "But you've thought about it I'd bet," she pulled her self firmly against him, her breasts squashing against his chest. "In the dark, when it's just you and your hand and you're so very close…" Nimble fingers making their way down to his breeches, unbuckling his belt swiftly. Actually she was a little surprised he didn't stop her there, and though while reluctant to continue any farther with him, Victoria would have rather chewed off her own arm than be the one to back down.

Her hand rested on the first button, her middle and forefinger actually inside his breeches, toying with the beginnings of his coarse pubic hair. "And you allow yourself the fantasy in that moment, don't you? Of someone, anyone, with her mouth around you, " she made wet smacking sound with her lips that caused his hands to twitch, "your hand wound in her hair, sucking you for all she's worth-" and then, finally, as she popped the first button of his breaches he jerked away from her.

"You're fuckin' sick," he growled, "You know that?" Hands scrabbling for his belt, his cheeks burning.

Victoria laughed scornfully at his obvious discomfort, "Oh please. Like just once it hasn't been me featuring in those pathetic little fantasies of yours, brother, deny it all you want." She had meant it as a throwaway remark, just another spiteful thing in a list of thousands, but his eyes, which were as easy to read as a book (admittedly one with very big letters and mostly pictures) flickered just slightly enough that anyone else might wonder if they caught it. Victoria didn't, she threw back her head and laughed, a melodic, rich, mocking laughter that echoed off the rafters.

"Fuck you," he spat for lack of anything better and slammed his way out of the room, her laughter trailing with him out the door.

Will was furious, not the dull anger that he felt whenever she started on him, but a spiky hot rage that was less directed at Victoria (the fact that she was a venomous bitch nothing new to him) but at himself for letting her get, so…so fucking close. Not just physically either and he wondered how she could guess at those kinds of things which such accuracy, and the way her fucking voice went so.. hypnotic. He shuddered, witchcraft obviously or something like it. And thanked the gods that she'd only be around for a few more months before fucking off to that fancy mage school in the south.

He thundered his way across the yard and into the barn, the old hay from the loft needed to be shifted. A chore he normally wouldn't have undertook on such a sweltering hot day, but right now he needed the distraction of good solid hard work.

Yanking off his tunic, he roughly grabbed the pitchfork and started up the ladder…

It was only out of supreme boredom that Victoria went to check to see if her mother was still actually alive. She was. Comatose and utterly pathetic, sprawled out on the drawing room couch, but nevertheless alive. Her mothers' blonde curls like straw from all the alchemical colour treatments arranged around her head, her dainty hand clutching at a large ornate flask. The lid was open, a thin stream of green-ish liquid trickled out on the carpets.

It was only out of pure curiosity that Victoria carefully navigated it out of her hand, the older woman shifted and let out a heavy snore and then settled right back into sleep.

Once back in the kitchen, Victoria turned the vile thing over in her fingers. Her mothers constant companion, the tiny metal container was practically a relic of her childhood. She put the opening to her nose and sniffed, it smelt sweet and fruity, pleasantly so. The odd glass of spiced wine aside Victoria had never been a big drinker, she found it messed with her magic something awful and the hangovers weren't that much fun either. Nevertheless she put the container to her lips and took a quick sip, the alcohol was strong and it burned as it went down. She coughed and spluttered, and immediately felt the tingling and heaviness in her brain, she smirked, took another sip of the stuff and wondered what Will was up too…

He startled with an oath when he saw her watching him out of the corner of his eye, her blue dress standing out in sharp relief against the dusty grunge of the barns interior. Her head was tilted to the side and she seemed to be deep in thought. The best option he had was to ignore her, so Will picked up his pitch fork and resumed his work.

She didn't know how long she watched him for, the skin on his upper torso was glistening with sweat, his hair stuck to his head in places and stuck out in all directions in others. She realised with a note of surprise, that she was actually turned on by this. Had she been stone cold sober that particular nugget information probably would have disgusted her and been neatly packed away in that little box of her mind labeled 'Do not Open'. As it was, with the mist of alcohol curling in her mind she wondered; why?

She put it down to the fact that she hadn't had a man in at least two weeks. And it wasn't like Will was completely hideous. In her minds eye whenever she thought of him, she pictured that clumsy, gangly boy of thirteen, all knees and elbows with a nose that could be used as a sailboat. This perception, she now knew, noting the lovely way the muscles in his back moved as he heaved the hay, was not entirely accurate.

Victoria observed him critically. At Seventeen, being a year her senior he was very tall and had a wiry leanness that was really quite appealing. His skin, whatever she had said, was the smoky light brown of burnt amber, and his hair, though while worn shorter than the current fashion, curled delightfully and was easily long enough to run one's fingers through. He had even grown into his nose, which was still large, but strangely didn't detract all that much from the overall appearance of him.

He wasn't as handsome as say, Franz or even Jonathan really, but he most certainly wasn't as repugnant as she made him out to be. She wondered why she never noticed this before, and chalked it up to the alcohol lowering her standards.

Victoria tilted her head to the side and said, finally, "Does it ever bother you? Doing so much work around here, shoveling shit even, knowing that you'll never own the place? It'll all go to my husband one day, you know," she told him sounding very smug "I'd marry some stuck-up, city noble that doesn't know anything about a place like this, who'd ruin it, or drink the profits and sell it, give it away even. Doesn't it just kill you? Or are you too stupid to even care?"

She watched as he shifted a bale of hay and grunted, evidently back to his aggravating little game of ignoring her. She smirked and took a few steps closer to him, "Father just loves this place, you know. Really puts his whole soul into it. I guess that's where you get it from," She gave a tinkling laugh, "Pathetic really, but to each his own I suppose. I think that's why I'd sell it, in the end, give Clarissa her bit of it, and then go up north maybe, after I've got my Masters that is." She smiled, a genuine smile even, at the thought of having those four inconspicuous black inked rings on the inside of her wrist that would practically gave her the power to piss all over almost anyone she liked.

She was close to him now, his back partially to her, leaning on his tool, catching his breath.

Victoria bit her lip, guiltily eying the long pale scars that stretched from the top of his shoulder blades all the way down his back. She wanted to touch them. Her finger slid with the beads of sweat down one of the lines and he immediately jerked away from her touch and turned to regard her wearily.

"Do you hate me William?" she asked with genuine curiosity.

He plucked a dirty rag from the pocket of his breeches and wiped his brow, pushing all his hair to the side in the process. "Sometimes," he admitted, watching her for a reaction. Victoria was unpredictable and tended to go off at the slightest provocation, which, coming from a girl who had been known to set things on fire at the merest touch, was not one of her more delightful personality defects.

She pouted and the perfectly sculpted brows above her wide green eyes crinkled slightly, "Sometimes?" she prompted. He shrugged, causing her to laugh at him, which no matter how many times she did it (and it was a lot) never failed to make him feel like an idiot.

"Well, " she said, her eyes still mocking him, "You should be happy to know that I, very much, hate you."

Victoria watched for his response, which was a fleeting unsurprised expression and then he turned back to his work. She giggled again, and eyed his toned arms quite appreciatively. "Would you like to know why Will?"

He grunted, neither caring one way nor the other. "My, don't sound too eager now." She giggled, for some reason finding this hilarious. "Well, lucky you, because I'm going to tell you anyway."

It vexed her slightly that he didn't stop his work to listen but she continued regardless, "When I was younger, it was jealousy, I'll admit it. A petty thing to be sure and – Oh, now I see I have your attention," She smirked when he looked up from his work with an obvious expression of shock, "Yes, amazing isn't it? Someone like me, envious of something like you. Nevertheless, it was because he favored you over me, always has you know."

Even Will didn't have to guess who 'he' was. He watched, mystified by her sudden urge to confess this to him. She wasn't even looking at him now, staring off to a space just above his shoulder, her mind obviously somewhere else.

"I could never understand why that was." Victoria continued, sounding perplexed. "I'm superior to you in every conceivable way. Smarter, easier on the eye, by far more talented.. .And yet, he loves you. Not as much as I'd say the senile old coot adores this stinking hole," she gestured around her to the farm, "But easily as much as he loves Clarissa, and quite a bit more than he loves Mother, and very much more than he loves me. It stopped truly bothering me years ago, I don't need his love nor approval even, but I've always just wanted to know why."

Despite her words, Will thought she sounded bitter and he looked at her, really looked at her. Victoria was lovely, always had been, in her smouldering golden haired way. A bitter, selfish, sadistic, manipulative, cold-hearted bitch too, but she was lovely.

"Why're you tellin' me this?" He asked and started as she sidled up to him with that smirk that he so very much despised plastered on face. "Why, Will. I thought my little confessional there might help to bring us closer," she wound a hand around his neck and pulled herself flush against him as she had done before in the kitchen.

"Wouldn't you like to get closer?" He could hear the pout in her voice and flushed at the fire that shot to his groin. Her breasts pressed against his chest, and he could smell her. Of cleanliness, and a floral sort of scent that appealed to him in a really embarrassing way. He could also smell…

"You been drinkin'?" He said incredulously, the tangy taste of alcohol on her breath.

Which, he thought, went quite a way to explain a lot of things about this situation

She giggled, "Perhaps." She dipped her head down the hollow in his neck and licked. His body stiffened against her and she felt his hand go up to the her own to disentangle it from his hair. He stepped away from her, "This.. this ain't right. We're…we can't…you're my-"

She smirked at his pathetic inability to find the right words, her hands went to the buttons on the front of her dress. "Yes." She said, her disapointed sigh pure theater. "I suppose you're right."

She popped the first three buttons in quick succession, took a step forward causing him to take a step back, his eyes looking very wild around the edges. "S-stop that," Will stammered, though his gaze was glued to her fingers as another button came undone. He could see the curve of her breasts and the dark fabric of her breast band, she pursued him in that manner until his knees hit the bench on the wall behind him and he fell back on it.

Victoria laughed at him, sprawled there looking at her with an interesting cross of fear and a mild sort of longing. She shrugged her arms out of the dress, which still covered her lower body. The only thing preventing her from begin complete naked from the waist up was a small thin black strip of fabric. She laughed again at the growled whimper that escaped from his throat and she slid herself onto his lap and undid the clasp at the back, pulling the breast band away.

Will inhaled a sharp breath, he'd never seen a naked woman before, so he couldn't compare her to anything. But, fuck, her tits were glorious. Rounded, and the perfect size to fit in his hands. Instinct told him immediately what he should to do. He wanted to touch them. He looked at up at her wondering if this was all part of an elaborate plan to humiliate him, she raised an eyebrow as if doubting he had the balls to continue. Will glared at her, determined to show the bitch.

His hands didn't immediately go her breasts, but instead trailed up her sides lightly, and he felt a keen sense of satisfaction as she shivered at his touch. Finally his reached her nipples, pink against the ivory paleness of her skin, he tenuously rolled one between his thumb and forefinger surprised at how it hardened at his touch and delighted that this was able to elicit a small moan from her.

He wondered what would happen if he sucked one.

Will dipped his head down to her other nipple, pleased when she arched her back, thrusting her chest towards him. He licked it first, tasting, and then took it in his mouth, teasing it with his tongue and sucking. Victoria moaned again, squirming. Half afraid she might get up and leave at any moment Will hooked his arm around her back to keep her there. He felt her nails drag down his scalp, a feeling that he loved, and moved his mouth to devour her other nipple.

Victoria was surprised at how well he was doing, considering his general worthlessness, and pressed herself more firmly into him. She was almost reluctant to pull his head up from her breasts, and when she did he looked worried, "Was that bad? I can-" she pressed her mouth onto his, if only to get him to stop talking. Her tongue swiped at his lips, and he kissed her back fiercely, if a little clumsily, his teeth scraping at her. Strangely Victoria found his inexperience and surprising aggressiveness to be a huge turn on, and she moaned as she slid her hands over the hard muscle on his shoulders and chest. Noting the difference between how he felt and how Franz and the rest, with their impressive builds gotten purely for reasons of vanity, and couldn't decided which she preferred.

She rocked on his lap in a way that made a loud groan reverberate from his vocal chords to hers, and her hands quickly worked their way down to his belt and buttons. He pulled away from her growling something that sounded suspiciously like a 'no' as he battered her hands away from his crotch. Victoria leaned into him and bit his earlobe to show her displeasure. "I want to see you Will, it's only fair." She found a particularly sensitive spot on his neck and dragged her teeth down it hard, he made a loud noise and she couldn't tell if it was from pain or pleasure. "You've seen me. I should rightly get to see you." Her hands went back to his breeches and he battered her away once again.

"We shouldn't be- we're rel-oh shit," he gasped as she began grind herself against him harder, he grabbed her hips firmly, trying to stop her before he relented… they couldn't, they had the same fucking father for Gods sake.

"Is it that embarrassingly pathetic that you can't show it to me?" She sneered, "Hasn't the worm grown into a snake or don't you have one at all? I guess, I shouldn't have expected a boy to be able to do a man's job then."

"Fuck you," he growled and then widened his eyes in surprise when she took his hand and shoved it under her dress. He recoiled instinctively as he felt the moistness of her even through the fabric of her undergarment but her hand kept his there as she leaned forward and said forcefully "I am wet for you Will, and I would very muchlike to fuck you right now, so Get. It .Out." Her other hand went to feel his cock through his breeches, he moaned and instinctively rocked his hips against her.

Oh gods damn him, he was going to let her. He knew it, she knew it. He actually physically ached for her, and had never wanted something so badly, ever. "Yeah," he groaned, "oh fuck, please, " feeling her kneed him through the fabric of his pants while her other hand swiftly popped the buttons. "There's a good boy," she said so patronisingly that he actually considered pushing her off and the leaving. That was, until her hand closed around his dick.

He was hard as a rock, and Victoria giggled instinctively at the way it flopped out of his breeches . Will, red with embarrassment, immediately fumbled to re-do up his buttons, but she pushed his hands away. "No, Gods, I wasn't laughing at you." She worked her hand over it to get a feel for the width. He was big, bigger than she'd expected. Not the biggest she'd had, but up there with them.

She could tell he was waiting for her reaction, she licked her lips in the most sultry way she could manage (which was, on the whole, pretty sultry). "Mmmm, well to be honest with you, Will, I've seen bigger." she said and was delighted when he flushed even redder. Victoria leaned forward to work her hand up his shaft, it was an awkward movement in the position they were in."But I definitely take back what I said about you not being a man," and felt him grin slightly against her lips when she kissed him.

They needed more room and he really wanted to see her as well. The floor was about the only option available, and Will had to admit there was something very satisfying about pristine Victoria who was always clean and never had a hair out of place laying on her back in the dirt and hay. Will wrapped an arm around her, surprised at how light and small she truly was, probably because whenever he was away from her she seemed to grow ominously in his minds eyes. She squeaked as he lifted her and it was difficult, to not drop her and move with his breeches down around his ankles but he managed and eventually they were sprawled in a sweaty heap on the floor. Will wasted no time in tugging at the rest of her dress.

Victoria laughed as he fumbled for the rest of her buttons, he glared at her, but didn't stop. It was sad really, and eventually she took pity on him, stood and pulled the fabric up over her head.

The straw and dirt bit into his knees as he knelt in front of her, her navel and her white cotton undergarment at his eye level. His fingers reached up and traced the part where it met her skin, and tugged the fabric down. Noted how it slid silkily over her thighs and down around her knees until she stepped out of it, and marvelled at the triangle of dark pubic hair, his heart was beating wildly in his chest.

Victoria watched him, as he ran his hands over her, breathing heavily. She'd never quite got this reaction before, but then, she'd never fucked someone as slow as Will. Perhaps he was still working out what to do with her? She bit back a smile as his hand ran over the anti-pregnancy rune she had carved into her hip, it was white and silverly against her wkin like an old scar but ornate and complex like some sort of pale tattoo. "It saysAnuwahn in old Cartakk," she told him softly taking his finger and tracing the design. "Anu, means suppress and Wahn means small one." She the took his finger and slid it between her legs, "and I'm quite sure even you know what this means."

He didn't reply but she was delighted when he made a sort of growling noise in the back of his throat and pulled her down, pushing her so that he had her pinned to the floor on her back. Clutching her sides hard enough to bruise Will pressed himself into her, demandingly. Now this, Victoria thought savagely her hands immediately dipping down to his groin, was more like it.

Will moaned as her hand closed around him, it was soft. She was soft, everything about her was so..it was the Gods greatest joke, he thought. That Victoria, cruel, mean, vindictive Victoria could do something as splendid as this. He thrust his hips against her hand, and moved his own up to bury into her yellow curls.

He growled low into her ear when she stopped after what seemed like barely minutes later. "My turn, I think." she said slyly and grabbed his hand, moving it lower, opening her legs. His hands moved through and curled around her pubic hair for a moment, and then down. She was wet, very much so, and as soft as how he'd imagine silk would feel. She guided him down further and he ran his fingers over a nub which got her panting. "Yes there, and here," and she pushed his fingers inside of her. He smirked, knowing what he had to do now, and her back arched when he started to move his fingers.

"Mmmm, yes, Gods yes, right there, don't stop." She panted through a moan, and then louder when his other hand began to toy with her breasts. He pinched them, hard, to elicit small cries of pain. He wanted to hurt her, he realised, for all the years worth of venomous comments and cruelty he'd suffered, but at the same time he didn't. It was very fucking confusing, wanting to pain and pleasure someone at the same time. Victoria for her part, seemed intent on tasting every inch of his skin, and her nails trailed lightly over his scars in a way that made him shiver.

She watched as his eyes closed as her hand went back to his erection, using it to guide him to her "I want you inside me, Will." She purred, reaching up to pull him closer, "Now." He was at her entrance, she slid herself along him a little and when he still didn't move forward she slid her hand around his neck and looked directly into his eyes, which were a unique amber colour, framed with lashes any girl would be jealous of, and said his name, just his name. "Will." And then gasped loudly as he thrust deep into her, bruising on the first go.

Oh, gods. She felt good… So good. Warm and tight around him. Will didn't even bother to try to stifle his panting as he continued to fuck her. Feeling as she wrapped her legs around him, pushing him farther, "Harder," she gasped, "Do it harder," keeping in rhythm with him, sucking at a tender point on his neck, scraping her teeth along it and then biting.

"That fuckin' hurts," he growled, burying his head in the crook of her neck so she couldn't fucking try to bite him anymore. "Wasn't exactly supposed to tickle" Victoria murmured breathlessly, and felt him thicken inside of her, heard his breath become more ragged. He was close, she could tell, she was too, Gods that didn't last long, but she was so near…

Will was close, so very close, he was surprised at how quickly it took him to get this far. But then, she felt so fucking moist and warm. A thousand times better than the times he'd jerked himself off, in the dark, panting and stifling his groans, praying to the Gods that no one came downstairs… He felt her angle her hips up, and he thrust into her deeper, harder. Bruising her probably, but he didn't care. She was just some girl, some stupid girl who didn't mean anything at all…

And then Will felt her muscles contract around him, her clear liquid green eyes snap open wide and her back arch into him as her voice reached new heights when moaning some garbled version of his name. And that's what sent him over, hearing his name on her lips, sounding strangely vulnerable in the moment. So unlike the cold-hard poisonous bitch he knew. A few quick sporadic thrusts and he blew, burying himself as far into her as he possibly could. It was fucking glorious, and felt like it went on forever and at the same time not nearly long enough. He ran his hands over her just because the odds of him ever being able to do it again were slim to none and they gasped together basking in the after glow of the orgasm.

"Gods," he said shakily after a moment, "That was…" He paused, frustrated slightly because he didn't have the words to describe it.

"Yes, I'm pleasantly surprised myself," Victoria agreed, her hands sliding over his back to touch his scars again. She seemed to like to do that. "You've got hidden depths William, and only the Gods know how much I never thought I'd hear myself say that." He grinned in spite of himself; it was the closest thing to a compliment he'd ever gotten from her.

Pulling up and out of her, Victoria stifled the mewl of protest that threatened to escape her throat and turned to watch him fish around for his breeches and pull them roughly on. She frowned in confusion when he looked back at her, stared and said, "Oh, shit."

"What? What is it?" She immediately twisted around, a tendril of fear thinking that that their Father and Clarissa had gotten home early and witnessed the entire episode, or worse that Nelly had seen it.

There was no one there.

She turned back to him confused, "What are you-" and then looked down as his hand reached out for her. Dark finger shaped bruised marred her upper arms, small round yellowy marks dotted her sides, and two dark hand prints stood out in dark relief against her skin on her hips. "Oh, my," she murmured, touching them with wonder. Victoria would have sworn she hadn't felt a thing.

"Someone has repressed anger issues, I wager." It was quite funny in a way, and she could definitely appreciate the irony. Will stroked her arm almost tenderly, "Fuckdamn," he swore, looking almost apologetic, "I bloody swear, I didn't mean to."

Victoria laughed and swotted his hand away from her. "Like you didn't love every second. Besides, I'd've done worse if it were me." And eyed the dark bite mark and bruise on his neck with a certain amount satisfaction. Gingerly she eased herself into a sitting position and then took her dress when he fetched it for her. "And I doubt I'll be able to even so much as sit down without feeling this for at least a week, if it makes you feel any worse."

"Yeah, actually, it does." he said gruffly, watching her intently as she buttoned up her dress and tenderly stood up, brushing off straw and dirt and generally fixing herself. "What now?" he asked trying to sound calm, despite feeling like his heart was about to beat it's way out of his chest. She raised an eyebrow at him, "Well, what do you think?" it was meant to be rhetorical, he answered it anyway.

"I think," he said slowly, measuring his words carefully, "I think I wanna fuck you again." If she was surprised by his words, she hid it well. Instead her eyebrow continued to rise, "And I think you wanna fuck me too" he added, leveling his direct gaze at her.

"Oh, definitely," she sneered. He noted that despite the sarcasm she didn't quite meet his eye. "I wouldn't get so full of yourself William. You weren't actually all that enjoyable." Liar, he thought with savage glee and took the three steps it took to get to her, he jammed his fingers under her chin so she had to look at him and said "Bullshit," before slamming his mouth onto hers.

Victoria squirmed immediately. This, she reflected, wasn't how things were supposed to go. She was supposed to be the one making him squirm, she was the one in charge here. She struggled as he forced her mouth open and invaded it with his tongue, clutching her too him hard. She could feel his strength and was keenly aware of the fact that he could probably take her again right there if he so chose. She found that she wasn't at all wholly opposed to the idea. He pulled back and immediately went to devour her neck, "Tell me you don't fuckin' want it," he growled in her ear, "Say it, and I'll stop, if it's what you want, I'll never touch you again."

"I-" the words were formed in her mouth, she could say them. Victoria knew she had enough self control, enough steel in her to say it. But then she thought, 'Why not?' she was leaving in three months, it was convenient; he was around all the time, she had practically bedded all the other decent men left in this pathetic town anyway. So, why not?

"-When?" she murmured, and felt his smirk against her collar bone.

"Whenever." He replied, unsure of how to proceed, his adrenaline rush as having once actually beaten herquickly fading. "Tonight then," she whispered maneuvering up to kiss him, "After supper, when they're all asleep."


She paused and thought about it, "The honey-pare tree. I'll meet you." she said into his mouth, noting his eager nod. Satisfied that she was, once again, the one firmly in control Victoria pushed him away from herself, straightening up. "Now," she said loftily, "If you'll excuse me. I have a book on the higher principles of Thaumaturgy waiting for me, which I happen to find much more scintillating than present company."

"Yeah? Well fuck you too," he replied annoyed slightly and trying to get his breathing under control. Wondering how in the hell she always managed to look calm, regardless of the situation.

"Ask around, you imbecile," She laughed scornfully, easing herself down the ladder "Who hasn't?"

He flipped her a crude two fingered gesture that would be guaranteed to start a brawl In any tavern on the lower continent which caused her to only laugh at him even more.

Bitch, he thought savagely as he grabbed his pitchfork to resume his work.


Victoria spent the rest of the day planted at the kitchen table trying to wrap her mind around the concepts behind the Constomagii effect . Which was, basically just an overly convoluted way of stating that magic cannot create things out of nothing – a fact any half-baked common idiot knew. It was obscure, and had a lot to do with Bernards Magic particle theorem, which was, if anything even more likely to make her attempt to slit her fucking throat just to end the numbing of her brain.

It was around midday when her mother stumbled bleary eyed into the room, rattling through Nelly cupboards for her patented hangover brew. Victoria briefly considered telling the woman that she had in fact consumed the last of the stuff three days ago, but decided against it. She watched in sadistic amusement as her mother spent a good solid ten minutes digging through every conceivable storage place and compartment, before slamming the last of the cupboards shut, the contents inside of which were rearranged and messy. Nelly, Victoria knew, would have a fit when she saw them.

"Godsdamn, that useless old bitch," her Mother hissed, apparently still completely unaware of her daughter, who raised an eyebrow but said nothing, still watching the woman out of the corner of her eye. Though while having lost her radiant youthfulness to the deary grasp of middleagedom, Catherine Fey still clung to the vestiges of some of her previous beauty, she was rounder in some places perhaps. But her eyes were just as wide and that same alluring blue, her lips full and red, her breasts round, and the wrinkles staved off with regular alchemical treatments. She could have easily been her daughters older sister.

When Catherine finally spied her first born her eyes glimmered with hope and she stumbled over to her reaching out to stroke the girls arm tenderly. "Victoria, sweetness, where did that old baggage put Mumsies special brew?" Victoria inwardly gagged at the syrupy tone of her mothers voice, and said. "You drank the last of it, actually." Barely containing a smile at the thought of the headache that must be pounding inside the monsters skull.

"Didn't she make any more, dearest?" The sugar in her voice souring a fraction. "She did," Victoria replied with disinterest, turning a page idly, "You got into that as well, after the Blackwater ball three nights ago," adding with a note of distaste, "And it's hardly Nelly's fault that you can't control your thirst."

Catherine's hand tighten around her daughters wrist, noting with distaste the light splattering of freckles over the girls nose, ugly. Or her golden curls, which she found dull, and simply tied back from her face in the way of peasants. In her minds eye Catherine compared her daughters appearance to her own, a vision distorted by alcohol and vanity, and was pleased to note she was easily still the far superior of the two.

"Your hair is a mess, Victoria. Fix it." Was her mothers venomously spat reply. And Victoria couldn't help but marvel at the the sudden switch to anger, or the hypocrisy of the statement, considering the woman's own bedraggled appearance. "I wasn't aware I was required to look my best, every second of the day," she sniffed, ignoring the vice like grip on her arm, "Nor that I was being judged."

Catherine smiled and ran a hand soothingly over her daughters alabaster cheek, "Oh, my darling," she said lovingly and then twisted her fingers to pinch viciously. The girl yelped, and redness pooled onto her face. "You are always being judged." Patting her daughters stinging check fondly, she then said "Now, be a dear would you, and give Mummsie some alone time."

Victoria, who was fucking seething, slammed her book and biting down on her lip hard enough to taste blood, exited the room without reply.

"Love you, my precious!" Her mother called and Victoria had to use every ounce of will power she possessed to stop from telling the delusional old cunt to go fuck herself.

She spent the rest of the afternoon locked in her chambers, alone. Trying to read and periodically running a hand over her cheek to feel the slight indentation her mothers nails made in her skin, and didn't come out even when she heard Clarissa and her father pull in in the carriage.

She wondered if Nelly was home yet.

Will had just finished removing and setting aside the old hay from the barn when the carriage rolled into the yard. Roland, his father though he never called him that, sat tall and unmoveable as always, clad is his dark town coat, next to him bouncing in her seat, Clarissa was waving frantically.

"Will!" She squealed with delight when she saw him.

He grinned as she flung herself from the carriage and came bounding over to him. Her green ribbons streaming out behind her and mingling with the dirty blonde curls of her hair. At fourteen, Clarissa look more like her father than anyone; more heavy set than her sister, and nearly as tall already, she had the round pleasant face of someone who told a lot of jokes and was constantly giggling about something. Excepting of the colour of her eyes and perhaps her hair, there was little of her mother in her, and even less of Victoria, a trait that, considering what he had actually done with her sister a few hours ago, he was quite thankful for.

"Will! Will!" she cried when she got to him, breathless and red with a childish exuberance. "Come, you must see my new saddle, it's lovely! Father got it for me, and we got a new bit for Fleance and everything!"

She grabbed his hand and pulled him over, laughing and chattering so quickly he could barely follow.

"But see my saddle first, it's Tashiem pink leather and.. and what happened there?" she pointed suddenly to his neck. Will knew she must be referring to the fucking bite mark Victoriahad left on him. He reached up, touched the spot, and swallowed remembering the feeling of her mouth on him. "I got myself with the butt of that damned fork on accident," he said, hoping that she wouldn't press the issue.

"Oh," she said, and then immediately launched back into her blow by blow recap of their outing. Roland raised an amused eyebrow at his chattering daughter, to which Will just shrugged hopelessly and went to help the old man unharness the two horses. Both beautiful Cartakkish Cobs named Cavalier and Buckets. Buckets butted his hand fondly as he reached out to give her a firm pat on the nose.

"How was business?" He asked after a moment, his fingers working away at the various nots and buckles. Roland snorted and shook his head in disgust, "It's shaping up to be a short year again, I'd wager." he said gruffly, "You get the fence in the north field patched like I told you?"

"Yeah," he said, nodding and smiled as Clarissa hefted her new saddle for him to see.

"Good," replied Roland nodding in approval, "Now you leave me to get this, and go clean yourself up for supper."

"You sure?" said Will, hands working on a particularly stubborn knot, "I can get this here, before I go."

Roland shook his head with a slight twitch of his mouth under his thick wiry beard. "You smell boy," he said blandly, "Can't have you scaring off the womenfolk, now." Will grinned ran his hand once over Buckets flinching flesh and then went off in search of a bath.

She was napping actually, when a voice spoke from above her, and then poked her in the shoulder.

"Nelly said to come tell you that Supper's soon." Victoria looked up, disorientated from sleep, into the eyes of her little sister. "I thought I told you to never come in here without permission, you little troll." she said, groaning as she heaved herself up and yawned widely.

"I knocked," Clarissa replied snorting back a laugh, "but you were snoring too loud to hear."

Victoria gasped indignantly, midway through stretching, "I. Do. Not. Snore." she hissed. Clarissa nodded, "'Fraid you do." she replied with a shrug, "Thought a pack of wild pigs had got in here actually."

"At least I don't look like one," Victoria snapped for lack of anything else, before pelting one of her pillows at the annoying brat, who dodged it easily. "Now, get, OUT!" Giggling Clarissa slipped out of the door, another pillow bounced off it as she went.

Will was in the hall, raking his fingers through his wet hair trying to get it into some semblance of neatness (and failing spectacularly) when he heard the shriek and then saw Clarissa come bouncing down the stairs laughing. "Victoria's awake," she informed him pleasantly He shook his head but grinned in spite of himself, "You shouldn't rile her, y'know".

"But it's ever so much fun," she chortled, grinning, and falling in step with him as they made their way to the dinning room. "You should try it sometime, the way her eyes pop right out her skull, priceless!"

"Yeah, not bloody likely." He snorted, pulling her chair out for her when they got to the room, "I like my nadgers the way they are; attached. Thanks all the same."

Clarissa giggled and plopped herself down, as he took the seat next to her. The table was loaded with bread, cheese, a platter of boiled greens and in the middle two steaming, seasoned pheasants, while Nelly was busy bustling about, laying down cutlery. "Ello, loves," she said warmly, standing back to eye the spread with a look of satisfaction, her wrinkled hands bunched in her apron.

"Mistress Nell," Will nodded to her, Clarissa eyed the food hungrily and didn't reply. Nelly chuckled at the young girls obvious enthusiasm, and pulled from within her apron, almost by magic, a small paper bag and dropped it into her lap. "Toffee fruits!" Clarissa gasped in delight, her hand immediately diving into the bag, "Thanks Nell!"

"For after dinner, mind you." the old woman warned with a stern look watching the hand slowly withdrawal from the bag, Will snickered and then stopped immediately when the old crows steely gaze fell on him.

Nell had always made him uncomfortable in a way he couldn't describe, she seemed to know everything that went on, everywhere. And had a way of looking right through him that felt like she was reaching directly into his soul, and was somehow disappointed.

Nell indicated to his neck, "What happened there laddie?" she inquired giving him the Look. The one that made cold tingles crawl up his spine, and not in a good way.

"Got myself, working in the yard." He lied, rubbing the mark self-consciously and tugging his collar up further to try and hide it.

"Hmmm, Odd place to bruise, that," she noted with pursed lips and an arched eyebrow, "Be more careful next time won't you, eh?"

"'Course Mistress Nell," Will replied slowly, ducking his head so as not to meet her eye.

Despite the fact that she knew they were all probably sitting around waiting for her, Victoria was fixing her hair. It was stupid really, she felt stupid, that she let her mother get to her like this.

"Your hair is a mess. Victoria. Fix it." she mimicked in the mirror making a crude face. Gods only knew how much she couldn't wait until she didn't have to deal with her, this, anything related to this blackhole of misery. Inserting the last of the pins into her hair, which stabbed into her skull something awful though positioned her curls in a lovely elegant bunch at the back of her head. Victoria pulled the wispy bits out to frame her face. And viewed herself critically, noting with annoyance a small cluster of spots forming just to the side of her chin, and vowed that if her mother criticised her hair one more time, she'd scalp the bitch with her fucking butter knife.

It was fine though, she looked fine, nicer than perhaps a dinner with family required, but no matter, it would have to do.

Will didn't look up when he heard her come downstairs, Roland and Lady Catherine had only just arrived, and he hated when he felt his cheeks grow hot when she took the seat directly opposite him.

He did however look up when Roland's scratchy voice boomed down the table to her, "You're late."

Victoria's smirk was so utterly self-assured and arrogant it was actually funny, and he idly wondered if she practised expressions like that in the mirror. "Perfection like this takes time, father." she said, with a toss of her head.

"Do not make us wait, again. Or you'll not eat at all." He grunted, carving himself up some of the pheasant, not even bothering to look at her. Victoria bobbed her head, "It shall be as my father commands," she intoned mockingly, smirking.

Roland ignored her. After sixteen years, he was fairly proficient at it.

Will wondered idly if it would actually kill her to say a nice thing, to anyone, just once. And came to the conclusion it probably would.

They ate in uncomfortable silence for a few minutes, the only sound heard being the clanking of cutlery. Victoria watched as Will cut a particularly touch piece of the Pheasant off for Clarissa, just out of habit, noting her little sisters gooey puppy eyed reaction and smirked into her plate. How utterly, laughably, pathetic.

Will watched Victoria out of the corner of his eye, how she ate; her greens and bread first, then the meat. Or how just under her lips was a smear of gravy, and then watched when she licked it away sensually and felt his cock tingle. She looked up with a smirk. Which is how he knew she knew he was watching her.

He wished, once, just once that he could have the upper hand with her, just once. It would be nice.

Victoria snickered to herself when his eyes widened at being caught, and then widened some more when she slipped her foot out of her shoe to run up the side of his leg, over his breeches. She rubbed him lightly and moved her foot slowly, progressively further up. Stopping only when she realised someone was talking to her, she blinked at her mother and said, "Pardon?"

"I said your hair looks nice today dear," Lady Catherine said with a smile. Will marvelled at how precisely she looked like her first born daughter, and hardly at all like her second, only the eyes, the eyes were the exception in both cases.

"I know," replied Victoria stonily and the look she shot her mother was one of pure poison. Will didn't have much time to wonder about this because at precisely that movement her foot worked it way up to put pressure on his groin kneading him with her toes, which felt really quite good. Unsuccessfully stifling a groan, which caused everyone to look down the table at him with raised eyebrows, he flushed red. "Sorry," he muttered, ducking his head, "It's just real good pheasant."

"Quite." said Lady Catherine, and Will could honestly say he'd been told to fuck off and die with more warmth. Victoria snickered audibly into her drink; he could have kicked her. Instead Will opened his legs wider, pulled his chair in closer to the table and dropped a hand down to run over her leg, surprised at the stubble that pricked him.

Victoria was keenly aware, as he started to caress her leg, that she hadn't shaved in a while and resolved to do it before she met him later in the night. She was surprised actually, to find that she was eager to see him later; to fuck him. She wanted it, the degree to which was, she reflected, mildly embarrassing. Oh, she still knew he was a useless waste of space, and so far beneath her it wasn't really funny anymore. Inwardly Victoria resolved to end the whole thing as soon as she got bored with it, which, inevitably, just like every other man she'd been with, would be quite soon.

They pretty much at in silence for the rest of the meal, her foot on him, she could feel his hardness already and wondered idly what he was going to do in the time before they met up. She smirked to herself at the thought of him, locked in some secluded place on the farm, the barn perhaps, grunting and moaning as he got himself off.

Sad, so very, very sad.

She watched him too, as he ate, his head down, his cheeks flushed, eating with one hand. The other, under the table, running over her leg, was large and warm, and she could feel the roughness of the skin and the callouses he had from working. Victoria wondered idly if he felt ashamed or conflicted at the very least about what they had done. She, for her part, didn't at all. It was just a bit of harmless fun, just something to do…

Victoria was helping Nelly put away the assorted dishes and things in the kitchen, she did this most nights, when everyone else had gone off to their own devices. It was the one chance per day that she really got to talk to the old woman without prying ears and annoying idiots under foot.

"I saw that lovemark on his neck, y'know." Nelly remarked idly, watching the young blonde as she leaned against the counter, a pile of gleaming forks and spoons beside her, rag in one hand wiping down the rest.

"What mark on whose neck, Nelly?" Victoria replied with an innocence that would be believable if Nelly didn't know her quite as well as she did. The old woman raised an eyebrow, the wrinkles on her face rearranging themselves into a look of 'don't bullshit me now, dear.'

Victoria assumed a lofty expression, "It really pains me, you know, Nelly. Really cuts me deep that you'd suspect me straight away. Perhaps Mother got her claws in him, Clarissa has been mooning over the imbecile for months, perhaps he dallied with the horses." Her disinterested shrug was pure theatrics. "Could be from anything."

"Oh, now love. Some things," the old woman told her seriously, "like horse fucking for instance, don't need to be said in my presence."

Victoria giggled. Nelly pressed her argument.

"And though I grant you, Lady Catherine isn't the sole of devotion, I very much doubt she'd eye the boy," Nelly paused to rub at a particularly stubborn stain from her best basting tray, "at least not for a few years yet. And you and I both know, that young Will would rather chew off his own dingle-smacker than do any of the sort to young Miss Clarissa." Victoria winced at the analogy, the old woman grinned widely showing the vacant spaces, rotten gaps where some teeth were missing in her mouth.

"Which," she continued, "if I don't mistake m'self, leaves just one other here, for whom I'd reckon dallying with her half-brother would be of no worry."

Victoria threw her hands wide, her show of dogged self-righteousness perhaps just a trifle overdone. "I'm thee most virtuous soul in the Providence of Tallern," she declared, clutching at her heart, "a figurative vassal of chastity and you wound me me with your accusations." But then relented when Nelly snorted, quite loudly, and pinned her with the Look.

"Now that," Victoria pouted, "was just unkind. But, yes, I'll admit to it." She grinned wickedly at the old woman, who made a 'tsk' noise and clicked her fingers at the girl.

Victoria laughed and then frowned picking at a particularly stubborn stain on a fork.

"Well, my deviant little opportunist," Sighed Nelly after a bit, "Can't honestly claim I'm surprised. Even if the lad is your brother."

"Half-brother," corrected Victoria, placing down the last of the gleaming cutlery, "which only really matters if you happen to get with child. And that, dearest Nelly, I have most definitely taken care off."

"It's a right sin against the Gods." Nelly reminded, waving a wooden spoon in the saucy little minxes direction. "They've smited men for less, I'd wager."

Victoria, who had been prepared for this argument, smiled again and replied, "It's a very poor state of affairs for the world, if their chief concern is who I happen to be bedding."

Nelly put her hands up in defeat, "Hmmm, yes, well then I take it that lowly little old me ain't goin' to dissuade you with such trifle things are mere logic and reason?" She observed critically, the girl smirked, arrogance evident in her expression even when she didn't mean it too. "But be careful will you now girl, I hear tell the heart's a fragile thing."

"Nelly," Victoria laughed, "Will is about the last person in the known world likely to develop any sort of tender feelings for me," she paused and then added, "Well, excepting Father of course."

Nelly ruffled the girls golden curls fondly, "Mayhap, I weren't talking about the Lad."

Which caused her to laugh even more, a huge bubbly laugh that caused the girl to double over at the waist and nearly choke herself.

Nelly rolled her eyes. Children..


It was time. Will had been waiting for it for hours. Marvelling over Clarissa's new saddle and the other bits and bobs she's gotten, vaguely feeling guilty that the whole time he was chattering away with her, he'd been thinking about getting his hands on her sister. It wouldn't have been as bad, he thought sourly, if the fucking bitch hadn't started rubbing him during supper. He'd spend the rest of the evening with a raging fucking hard on that was nearly killing him.

He's brought a blanket, he's felt a little stupid actually, bringing it. But it was cold out, colder than he'd have thought for in the middle of Motembis anyway. And, well, they were going to be taking their clothes off weren't they? And, though he couldn't speak for Victoria (long since had he held the belief that solid ice ran through her veins) he was certain that he didn't want to fucking freeze his arse off tonight.

Will laid the blanket flat on the ground, at the base of the tree. It was huge and stood alone on the hill near the west paddock, blocked from the farmhouse's line of sight by the barn. Perfect really, for what they were about to do. She hadn't arrived yet, so he leaned against the thick dark trunk and waited.

Victoria hadn't actually purposely tried to be late, she bathed and then her fucking razor was blunt so she had to sharpen it, and her hair toook ages to dry, and then she had to wait for Mother and Father finally go to sleep, and so on and so forth. Next time she made plans to meet a man, she was definitely going to make him come to her.

After the third time she tripped over a fucking branch and stubbed her toe on a rock, Victoria summoned her witchlight. Every Mage could make one; a pure ball of light, perfectly round and a different colour for every person. Hers was a disgusting rusty red colour that she despised and which, coupled with the fact that It actually took a surprising amount of energy to keep it lit for any extended period of time ensued that she rarely ever used it. By the time she actually got to the tree she was already sweating and panting slightly, and she was glad to see that Will was there already, hands jammed in his pockets, leaning against the tree gazing intently in the direction she was coming from.

He would have heard her coming from a mile off, crashing around like a fucking herd of elephants and with a light no less. Will shook his head in disgust, like that wouldn't be fucking visible from the house, at all. He then shuddered as the ball of red sunk back into her skin; Magic.

Will noted her dress, plain green and one that hugged her hips and figure brilliant and that her hair, which was uncharacteristically just left down and plain, streamed around her shoulders in yellow curls that shone almost white in the moonlight. Gods, she was lovely. Really.

She didn't even bother with words as she got closer to him, simply slid her arms up around his neck to pull him down in a forceful kiss.

Which he didn't mind at all.

Victoria felt his tongue force it's way into her mouth, and battled it with her own. There was something fierce about him like this that she liked, as opposed to the quiet, meek, idiot he usually was, and she pulled herself closer to him as he spun and shoved her up against the tree. It seemed as though she could feel every inch of him and she sighed as he pressed the hard line of his body more firmly into her. She pulled away from his mouth to trail a series of hot open mouthed kisses down his jawline and scraped her teeth against his neck, which caused him to pull away and growl "No, more, fuckin' biting."

"Spoilsport," she pouted and then gasped when his hands went up to simply yank down the neck of her dress, exposing her breasts to the cold night air and ripping the fabric in the process. "You pigidiot, son of a-" and then moaned loudly when he started to fondle and roll them between his fingers. She could feel his smirk against her mouth as he went back to kiss her again.


Determined to get her own back Victoria dipped her hands down first to splay over his stomach and then to take the hem of his tunic and nudge it upwards, "This," she suggested forcefully, "Needs to come off." And was pleased when he simply reached down and yanked it quickly over his head with the same disregard he had shown for her own clothes. She appraised him appreciatively for a moment, he really did have quite a lovely body. Velvety tan skin and lean with wiry muscles, a dark line of hair on his stomach leading enticingly downwards. And then he was back to mauling her chest and breasts, lifting her up so he could take one of her nipples on his mouth, her head tipped back against the trunk and she moaned.

Fuck, she tasted good. He breathed her in; her girly scent, mixed with the tang of sweat and him. Moving his mouth over her other nipple, he scraped his teeth over it, sucking so hard it probably hurt. His own noises mixed with her moans when he felt her hands come down, one to yank his head back up to her mouth, the other, down over his back to his scars. Briefly he wondered what the fuck it was with her and touching them. But then his dick started to throb and Will had no choice but to thrust into her, hoping she might get the hint and half afraid he might actually lose it before she even touched him.

"Someone's eager," Victoria murmured sounding smug. "Yeah, well you would be too if you'd been hard for the past two fuckin' hours," he grunted, now placing wet kisses down her neck, and sucking and scraping his teeth along it like she had done to him earlier that day. "No fucking biting, remember?" she mimicked and pulled away. Will growled demandingly because she still hadn't touched him yet.

Victoria snickered at his impatience, and kissed his collar bone, and then lower on his chest, taking one of his nipples briefly in her mouth, and then kept going lower until finally she was on her knees in front of him, the soles of her feet resting against the trunk of the tree. His crotch was at eye level, and her fingers quickly going to his buttons, only undoing the top two to get his dick out, but allow him to keep his breeches up.

She looked up at him, all doe eyed, as he shifted to place one hand out against the trunk to support himself. "Tell me when you're close." she said, and ran her hand down the full length of him, her grip firm and she squeezed. "Yeah," he groaned thrusting his hips a little in her hands, and looking down at her with huge dilated eyes, "Gods, anything, just don't stop."

Anything. Victoria couldn't help but smirk at this. And placed her mouth over the head of his cock, running her tongue over it, already tasting the saltyness, and heard him actually whimper. She smirked inwardly (her mouth being sort of occupied now), and kept stroking him with her hand. Bobbing her head forward to take more of him in her mouth, careful not to get her teeth in the way, he barely fit, and she had to breath through her nose to get him all in. His hand immediately came down to fist in her hair and pull it back from her face, Victoria rolled her eyes wondering idly what is was with men and watching themselves get sucked off?

"Oh, shit," He breathed, "Oh fuck," as she ran her tongue over the vein on the upper side of his cock, moving her mouth along the length of him and sucking. Wet slurping sounds filling the air and she felt him thicken after mere minutes and moved her lips up to mouth at his head which was leaking something chronic. "Sweet Merciful fucking Belardo," he said harshly, yanking at her hair, "Now, fucking now."

Victoria, with unsurprising swiftness removed her lips from him, stood and jerked him until he came, panting and gulping against the tree. "Gods that was… fuck, that was good." he gasped, maneuvering himself so he would bury his head in her hair, shaking slightly. "Of course," she purred, sounding very smug, allowing him to kiss her only once before pulling out of his grasp, to re-arrange her dress, which now was very loose at the front.

Will look at her uncomprehending. It was her turn now right? That's how it worked.

She looked at him with raised eyebrows, "You're not getting anymore tonight if that's what you're thinking. Honestly, Men." She rolled her eyes, brushing the dirt off the knees of her dress.

"What? No. What about you? I thought, that's how it- I mean, it's your turn now." He said, and then felt like an Idiot when she laughed at him.

"Yes well, guess now you owe me, Will." She replied with an evil smile, the kind that signalled that very bad shit was probably going to happen to him, quite soon. "And Ialways collect what I'm owed."

It sounded promising, but not in a good way.


And this is where it's ends.