XIII · Donaar, the Bloodbane

🎧 Seven Devils by Florence + The Machine

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"Dad's runes," I breathed overwhelmed, standing on my knees on the bed, comfortable with my nude body near him, squinting my eyes a bit, going closer to him, unable to hold my curiosity to read them. But before I could touch him with my right fingers, I noticed him closing his eyes and sucking on his breath, and I halted, "Can I touch it?"

"Yes," he breathed.

"I don't want to hurt you, you seem to be in pain," I swallowed.

With his eyes closed, he grabbed my right wrist and took my hand to his chest, "My fangs hurt, but I can't drink from you," he breathed.

I felt my cheeks burning, "I should have picked phoenix."

Still holding my wrist, he giggled sensually, opening his eyes, his pupils taking over blackening everything, "I agree," he brought his other hand to my waist, caressing my nude skin. "My master tattooed me, I don't know what the tattoo really means, it's an alphabet he created, but he never taught me, so it's safe to say only he knows, because I'm his first and only pupil. He was a crafty male, the craftiest of them all, I would say."

Pressing my lips together, I traced my right index on the runes that form the intrinsic complex micro lines that in a large quantity form the very design of shadows, easy to fool the eyes of many. Now I get why copycat had that tattoo, just like I understand that nothing tops this one, the details my dad poured into them are insane.

"Thee who owns the eyes of the soul, whose dooming touch shakes the foundation of the body of all living beings, possessing the rare power to consume the magical essence of a soul and to shatter it to dust, adding their life force to thy own, with a death touch, will inherit the dooming duty of conquering the void, everything the lies within it, and take back everything that was once stolen from thee," at each word that I read of one of the hundreds of lines that make the tattoo, my voice sounded ancient, just like dad's did when he taught me, even if I'm just translating it. "Sounds like an epic fantasy story."

Dorian grabbed my wrist, stopping me, and when I looked at him, he had a haunted look in his shadowed eyes, "You can read my tattoo?"

I blinked, "Mmhm. It's in what dad called Celtic Auraniun."

He frowned, "You can speak it?"

A nod, "This is actually my first language, I was alphabetized in it before the five dialects and before English, my main language back in the human realm. I was homeschooled, so my dad taught me everything I know. So, yes, I can read your tattoo. In fact, I think this might be a thick book, all that was barely one of the countless of lines, each made of micro runes that my dad draw intrinsically, very complex. I have no idea what it means, but he definitely wrote a book on your pretty olive skin." I let a grin curl on them, "I'm fluent in the lines of you," I left my instant pick-up line in the air and winked at him.

"Hell be damned, your father was one insane male. He wrote a book on my skin without even telling me? Fuck, he said it was a long protection spell that would make me stronger. That bastard," he gasped, but grinned at me. "Ain't it poetic that the only one who can read it is his daughter?!"

I couldn't help giggling, "I could totally see my dad writing that on you, because he had a new story in mind and didn't have a free notebook in his hand to write on it. Can you image? A death touch? What does that guy even does with that plot armor does to his enemies? Disintegrate them to dust and some shit, how absurd. I could totally see my dad making a video-game out of this. But maybe he did and I don't know, since he never let me play any of his games," laughing, I looked around the lines. "Where did he start the tattoo? He puts titles in everything, this might have it if it's a book."

Dorian guided my index finger to the first line on the right side of his neck, right over a primal vein, his black leather gloves soft to the touch, "Here," he whispered, his voice deeper and a mare breath above me.

It was a small line with only 8 runes, "Donaar, the Bloodbane," my voice was ancient again as I read, then I met his eyes that were on me, black and consuming. "I guess this is both the title of the story in your skin and of who it is about. Never heard of this person, but maybe we could try and see if dad based it on a real guy, if it's a guy, or if he made it up. Or maybe,"

Holding my face with both hands, he pressed his lips on mine, in a kiss that got me feeling feverous, and I rose up, surrounding his neck with my arms, then lacing my legs around him, and he brought his hands to my ass, digging them on my skin. Turning around, he sat on the bad with me on his lap, and as we kissed, I began to undo his belt, than to open his pants. But before I could do what I was craving for, and grab his cock out of it, so I could sit on him, he grabbed my wrist, stopping me.

"I can't fuck you like this," he whispered against my lips.

I stopped the kiss, "Oh? Do you guys have condom in this world?"

He frowned, "Condom? What is that?"

Maybe they named it something else, "It's like a… cape that males cover their cock with, so they have sex protected, avoiding diseases that are transmitted through sexual intercourse, as well as it allows the guy to cum inside, without it actually going inside the womb, and consequently helping avoid a unwanted pregnancy. It's thin but resistant, I think. Some people don't like, so they opt for birth control, with is solely on the female, and it's an internal process with medication and all, to make so, even if they fuck raw and the male cum inside her, she wont get pregnant, or,"

He covered my lips with his right hand, looking disgusted, "Kinds like mine, and definitely yours, ain't weak like that, cherryling. We can do it raw and cum inside all we want, a female only gets pregnant in mating season, and depending on the race, only with their mate, so, you're safe on that. And that sounds uncomfortable, to have sex with my cock covered and not skin on skin, it sounds really horrifying. Humans are weak, we ain't."

But I lost focus on the nickname, "Cherryling?"

Dorian's cheekbones blushed, "It's a good nickname, suits you."

"Yeah? How so?" I tilted my head, flirty.

"Two reasons. You smell like cherry blossom, vanilla, and cognac."

They have cognac in here? Nice. "That's one," I purred.

His eyes darkened as he breathed, "Your pussy tastes like cherry. I added the 'ling' at the end because it's a synonym of little, and you're little, but I didn't want to call you little cherry, so cherryling it is."

Did he just say my pussy tastes like cherry?