// LOL took you ladies long enough! Definitely too much lowkey foreplay for my (or Milos's) taste, too little action XD - but I guess I'm figuring out why I prefer one-night-stands to relationships. I like it simple hehe //
A knock on the door, jarred Milos out of his reverie. Almost reflexively, his hand found the hilt of one of his blades, before he relaxed. If that was Stevania, coming on some misguided notion to 'get even', she wouldn't have knocked. Plus, for all of her attitude, she didn't strike him as suicidal. Unless she came seeking, or offering, an apology. One was neither required, nor desired, however. And if she was after one from him - that wouldn't happen either. To apologise would mean admitting he lost control, and Milos liked his - mostly successful - pretense of always being in control. Pride? Hubris? Maybe. But the barkeep was right... under all that conditioning, he WAS human.
Mostly. Successful. Pretense.
Not to mention admitting she got to him with her contradictory, acerbic attitude. That was a satisfaction she wouldn't get, either. He had far too much pride for that. In his experience, insecure, edgy little numbers like her fed on those kinds of realisations. Likewise - he decided to keep his high standards when it came to women. And Stevania had failed to meet them. Though in quite a different way, from most others. She was a looker, and under all that attitude and pretense, she was likely a riot in bed. The problem was... putting up with her attitude and pretense, WITHOUT killing her in the process. Not that she deserved it... but she just had that effect on him, and Milos wasn't too proud to admit that. To himself, that is. Not to anyone else.
"Not worth it. One of us would end up dead sooner rather then later. Besides... she IS a bit skinny for my taste, anyway. Probably wouldn't last anywhere close to my climax!" - he affirmed to himself.
Finally, he spoke up, deciding on neutral curiosity.
"Yes? Who is it?" - no pain left in his tone. His cock was healing nicely, through a combination of the Restoration scroll, and thorough washing and bandaging. He'd probably have a small puncture-scar there for a while, but it wasn't bleeding anymore.
"It's Saloma. You busy?" - the well-remembered slightly-sardonic tone came. Almost involuntarily, the young man's face spread into a smile. Now THERE was an uncomplicated woman! She made it no secret she wanted to throw herself on him, and for all her sarcasm and needling, she was psychologically far better adapted then Stevania. Plus... she wasn't emotionally damaged goods, with a murder-fetish-pretense like the drow was. And she lacked that undertone of arrogance.
But what was she doing back here already? Did her contract go wrong?
"Hello! I was under the impression you'd be away for a good long time, living the high life with your Count employer? What happened?" - he asked.
"Shit happened. Look, I don't feel like talkin' through a fucking door. You plan on lettin' me in or what?" - the woman's slightly annoyed tone came back, with the kind of distant feel that told him it was directed at someone... else.
"Oh... yes, of course!" - he scrambled to his feet, unlocking the door. The tall, wiry woman stood there, eyes bloodshot, indicative she'd been drinking... and her face a bit sunken-looking.
"Um... what happened?! You look--" - he started, as she cut him off, "...like a horse's arse? Yep. Feel like one, too." - without asking, she brushed past him, to plop herself in the room's lone chair. He noticed chocolate spots around her lips - clearly she helped herself from the Lounge as she came in. How much did she... notice?
"My contact was a no-show, the fool likely couldn't find his way down to the slums, and to top it off, I got sloshed, and made a big scene at the Crucible. Had to get forced cold-turkey, then barely dragged myself back here." - she growled, rolling her eyes.
Milos shook his head slightly, closing the door behind her, as he sat on his bed, opposite the chair.
"Hazards of meeting with intermediaries, I suppose. But... I'm glad you're back safely!" - he smiled, his first genuine smile tonight. Saloma - he knew exactly where he stood with her. Even if he liked to play hard-to-get... not tonight. Not after everything that happened earlier.
The crimson-haired vixen gave him a shrewd look, despite her sunken appearance.
"Okay, what's up? Forgot your usual cold-fish self tonight? That actually looked like a real smile there for a second!" - she smirked.
He chuckled, mirthlessly.
"Let's say I have learned the value of simplicity in expression, given... certain events earlier tonight. And... I AM glad to see you again."
"You saw me like five hours ago... not buying it--" - she countered, then snapped her fingers suddenly, with a devious smirk.
"By chance this has something to do with... quite a little scene up in the Lounge I came across? Blood, signs of a fight... human and something else? Did you throw down with someone?!" - the woman asked, narrowing her eyes, looking him over for any signs of bruises or anything else indicating a fight.
Milos sighed.
"A misunderstanding... of sorts. And a reminder of how lines between fiction and reality can be blurry." - he muttered, absently fingering the half-opened book next to him on the bed. Saloma burst out laughing, catching him completely off-guard.
"Oh I see... you got the purpose of my little present! Did it prep you well enough?!" - she winked, knowingly.
For a long moment, the young assassin couldn't believe what he was hearing, looking at Saloma's... knowing... expression. He put two and two together...
"Y...you mean... you... KNEW about - her?!" - he breathed, blinking in disbelief.
The woman casually crossed her legs, shrugging, her revealing leathers squeaking slightly in protest.
"Not personally, no... but I've been hanging around the Guild often enough the past couple months, while you've been away, to get wind of some drow chick dropping in occasionally, with visceral stories and bloody presents. And I also overheard some of the staff talking about her and her little edgy... mankiller-fetish. I figured if you were back in time, you might run into her and get interested! I know how much you like vicious little pretentions skanks... probably why I'm not vicious enough for you... So I figured you'd need some advance-warning on Drow... that book was the best I could find, but given her reputation, I figured it was pretty accurate." - she winked.
"You... you mean you don't get off on that... rubbish?" - he blinked, confused.
Saloma scoffed at that, reaching over to pick up the book, flipping through some pages and illustrations within.
"C'mon. It's ME. Impudent slaves, male-bashing femdom fantasy, Drow power-tripping maneating bullshit? Seriously? I've got nothing to prove, and to me, Drow bitches are the biggest self-affirming insecure types in the world. The fact they got a RELIGION around male-bashing, tells me how sad and frustrated they are! A 'Spider Queen'? Gimme a break. I think living in the dirt made them all stupid!" - she laughed derisively, flexing her toned frame.
Milos found himself laughing alongside her.
"Oh... you have NO idea! I have seen less 'playing-tough' pretense in a circus with mimes playing bullies in a schoolyard, then talking to her. All attitude, no substance! If I had a pint every time she affirmed how 'demented and dangerous' she is, I'd be dead drunk by now. Until I decided to make her SHOW me how 'tough' she is." - he paused there, realising he may have let on too much.
"Aaaand?" - Saloma prompted, that sardonic smirk back on her face.
He bit his lip.
"Not much to say... I pinned her to the wall, in a little... come on... challenge, she popped-out some kind of hidden crotch-blade, and impaled me in the penis. Then I... may have dislocated her wrists and headbutted her. In reaction, mind you! I mean... she was driving me past the lunacy-point, with her crap! And then stabbing me in the dick..." - he quickly added, a bit defensively. He expected Saloma to get upset, but she just threw her head back and started laughing like possessed.
"BWAHAHAHAHAAHAAAHAHA... she stabbed you in the cock.... BWAHAHAHHAAHAAAAAHAHAHAHA... lemme guess.... BWAHAHA... you got over your closet-fetish for insecure edgy bitches like that?! BWAHAHAAAHAAAAAAAAHAHAAAAHA... ok. Misson... BWAHAHA... accomplished then!" - she was tearing up, clapping poor confused Milos on the shoulder.
He looked like a deer in headlights.
"You mean you expected her to---" - before she cut him off, still tearing up... "---BWAAH... to stab you in the dick?! No... BWHHAAH... I didn't think she'd be that lame... but I guess the stories about Drow women are... BWAHAAHA... true! But... Bahaha... I'm... I'm glad you didn't off her for that. That'd be over the line.... hehehee..." - her laughter died down to a chuckle. Before Milos could say anything else, she yanked him by the collar towards her, planting an assertive kiss on his lips.
"Now... loverboy. Wanna show me how you pinned her down?! Hmm? I promise... *I* won't stab you in the cock! Unless you ask nicely..." - she breathed in the young man's ear, her free hand reaching down to wrap itself around his crotch, assertively.
"Uw! I got stabbed there, remember... ?" - he laughed, gripping her by the neck tightly, glaring hard in her lust-filled eyes.
"You're... evil. You need to be punished! Hard. MMMmmfff..." - he growled, pinning her to the wall and ravishing her. She hooked her arms around him in affectation.
"Gooood boy! Finally got you off your... high horse. Now... TAKE ME! And you'll never want edgy drow skanks again!" - she hissed, victoriously.
The fun began.
***