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Allowing herself to be pulled into a kiss, Mira lets her own hand wander up and down Alysa's body, softly caressing her, tracing the blonde's taut curves through her gown.

'You need not apologize, my beauty,' she says, exhaling a chill breath into Alysa's mouth. 'I know precisely how you feel. I resisted as well. I had been so thoroughly convinced of my proper place and station by the silly constraints of polite society that I feared the freedom my mistress offered, just as you do. I raged at her and even tried to help those who sought to hunt her down and destroy her. In the end, I came to realize, just as you are, that I wanted her strength, her reserve, her power. I was tired of being too weak to decide my own destiny.'

She hooks a finger under the shoulder strap of Alysa's gown and slowly begins to pull it downward. Her eyes are smoldering and she shifts her position so that she is lying on her side, next to Alysa on the bed. 'Just lie as still as possible, my beauty, and let me take your mind off your pain.'

Alysa grins wickedly as Mira shifts, letting her free hand wander over her cool skin as she feels the familiar and somehow welcome touch of ice on her own heated skin.

"As you wish mistress" she purrs seductively as Mira tugs her gown free from her shoulders. Despite the woman's horrific nature Alysa is astonished to find that she still longs for her touch, a feeling that can not entirely be explained and that has plagued her since the moment she first laid eyes on her, though it does assuage her guilt over most of the thoughts that ran through her mind. Most of them truly lascivious at the time, it seems Mira's earlier assumption about Alysa's intentions that first night were not entirely unfounded.

Mira manages to ease the strap down far enough to expose one of Alysa's breasts. Immediately, those soft, cool lips find the blonde's nipple and she suckles it while her hand now ventures past Alysa's hips to pull up the hem of her gown and reveal Alysa's long, lean legs.

As her tongue swirls around the aureola and she tugs on the turgid nub with her teeth, Mira's eyes remain gazing upward, staring at Alysa.

Her fingers trail up and along Alysa's muscular calf, her tight thigh. The intended destination is clear but she is not in any rush to reach it, content to let her caresses tease her lover.

Alysa's bottom lip is caught firmly in her teeth and she is fighting not to squirm under her lover's torturous attentions. Her burning blue eyes stare down into Mira's the edge of each deep blue ring tinged with the darkest black giving away the woman's desire if Mira has learned such subtle hints.

"Mira" she whimpers as the woman's chilled fingers slide along her thigh, the sound at once a plea and a teasing encouragement as her free and uninjured hand once again strokes her lover's coal black hair.

Not needing encouragement to inspire her ardor, Mira nevertheless smiles at Alysa, her mouth full of the woman's flesh. She lavishes attention with her tongue and teeth on one breast before leaning across Alysa to impatiently yanks down the gown to reveal the other. This too receives a generous tongue lashing.

The mattress beneath them shifts slightly and some of the water sloshes out of the bowl,

Where her mouth had been, now her other hand gropes and kneads the malleable flesh in her hand. She is strong but so gentle and, were this under other circumstances, Alysa might sense that Mira holds some true affections for her. It is certainly closer, more intimate than it has ever been with a man.

Something small and cold presses against Alysa's bare chest.

Standing behind Mira, who is crouched over Alysa like a mountain panther with her fresh kill, is the shadow creature. It immediately looks away with a thin hiss of disgust but when Mira alters her position slightly, the specter disappears again. MIra's keyring is still hanging from her neck, the metal tips of the keys brushing against her ever hotter skin.

Alysa almost blushes as she notices the spectre standing behind Mira, suddenly feeling rather self conscious despite herself.

She cannot hold back a moan of pleasure however as Mira paws at her exposed flesh, despite the woman's command for her to stay still the bandit finds herself squirming under her expert touch, though managing to keep her injured arm protected at least.

Mira's hand now gently eases apart Alysa's thighs, carefully as to not stir the blonde's body too much or spill any more of the water.

Yet this may be for naught as she drags her fingertips up along Alysa's mound, tracing the slit surrounded by downy curls of golden hair.

'Does my touch please you, my delicious little whore?' Mira asks playfully between flicks of her tongue against Alysa's nipple.

Alysa's breath catches in her throat at Mira's soft touch and it is all she can do to nod. There is something about the way that Mira teases her that drives the blonde almost to distraction. Though she has had other lovers there has been none who compared to her and Alysa now knows that this is part of the dangerous game she has agreed to play. Though she may feel like she is the one playing Mira it may turn out that her body is no different from the piano keys and that Mira is the true player here.

'Mmmm,' Mira groans softly. Alysa can feel something sharp pricking her breast, sinking into the fullness of her bosom but, before she can react, Mira abruptly thrusts two fingers into Alysa's swollen, sodden sex and begins to curl her fingers with a come hither motion.

Her skilled fingering benefits Mira in multiple ways and Alysa is correct in her comparison between the piano and her body. Both are instruments that require precision and grace to make beautiful music and Mira knows precisely how to play each.

Alysa's back arches as the sensation of Mira's sudden change in tactics overwhelms her. She has her suspicions about what Mira is doing to her but she makes no move to stop her not wishing to raise suspicion.

She had almost forgotten how truly skilled those cool fingers could be and it is all she can do to bite back a yelp of pleasure. Her free hand moves once again, finally finding the strength to pull Mira's hair free and work through its full length.

There is a slurping sound as Alysa feels her breast begin to go numb as if the icy tongue lapping at it had done so but it is overwhelmed by the thick, sticky slapping of the long, slender fingers buried in the blonde's cunt, slowly churning inside her, touching every intimate inch of her interior walls. Not only does that intense pleasure distract Alysa from the cold spreading through her chest but it blots out the throbbing pulse of her broken wrist.

Perhaps an eternity of such exquisite delights would not be so terrible after all.

Now Mira's dark mane spills freely around her face and drifts in silky waves across Alysa's chest. Alysa can almost picture the image of it, her writhing body under the complete power of this seductress for whom she has killed and for whom she might yet die.

Alysa shakes that thought fron her head the moment it surfaces, there is no room for the consideration of such things for they will lead to her doom.

What she cannot shake off however is the intensity of the pleasure Mira is coaxing fron her body, even the spreading chill cannot dissuade it. Her hand unconciously knots in her lover's hair and she once again dissolves into screams and cries of pure ecstasy as Mira works her magic.

Alysa's first orgasm does nothing to dissuade Mira from relenting in her assault. On the contrary, she begins to pump her fingers more rapidly in and out of Alysa, the delicious friction sending shockwaves through the blonde. Soon, Mira's touch feels less icy as Alysa's heat warms the other woman.

Mira kisses her way down Alysa's chest, leaving a trail of crimson kisses from the place where blood now feebly dribbles. The dark haired temptress has bitten into Alysa's breast, leaving an oozing wound around her nipple.

Not that Alysa shall notice at the moment, not with those digits delving knuckle deep into her slick cunt. And even now Mira tries to be careful not to jostle Alyssa too much and knock over the bowl of still warm water.

'You're so beautiful, my Lysa,' Mira breathes against the other woman's stomach, her head slowly descending. 'Once more for me, my darling. Show me again how much your mistress pleases you.'

Alysa shudders and pants breathlessly as Mira continues her torture. Her loud cries of pleasure not subsiding as Alysa feels another orgasm building already, as though her body cannot help but respond to her demands. "M-Mira, my love, my Mira" she whimpers, oblivious to the fact the vampir has bitten her as pleasure overwhelms her senses.

Her hips buck and she fights the instinct to thrash against Mira's hands, trying to keep her injured arm in the warm water. Her free hand runs through Mira's hair, tugging it to pull the woman into a passionate kiss, not knowing that Mira's lips are covered in her blood. Even before she can press her lips to Mira's another orgasm rockets through her body, pulling another scream from her lips, her shuddering body soaking the woman's fingers as she writhes in delight.

Raising up onto her knees, Mira tugs down the straps of her own gown to reveal her beautiful bosom. She had been blessed with her gifts even before her change of lifestyle but the process had perfected her natural allure. Her skin glows by the light of the candles, her dark hair flowing over her naked shoulders like a curtain of darkness. She makes an explicit show of sucking Alysa's juices off her fingers, smearing it with the blood on her lips before reaching out to wipe the same mixture across Alysa's mouth, forcing her to taste it.

'You taste of summertime and the sea, my beauty,' Mira demurs, her voice a whisper. Then she presses her nude breasts against those of her lover and, with an errant gesture, knocks the bowl of water to the floor. Regardless of whether or not the swelling has subsided, Alysa's attentions shall most likely not be on her wrist. In her still exhausted condition, this encounter is like an intense sexual reverie, a lusty daydream, if only it did feel so real and so good.

Alysa almost instinctively licks her lips, tasting herself on them, not for the first time. She eyes up Mira like a starving wolf eyes a passing deer. The pain in her wrist is forgotten as she bites her lip, looking up at the woman.

She reaches up with her free hand and attempts to push Mira onto her back, though in her weakened condition the results might be less than impressive. If in fact she is able to, that would imply a large amount of cooperation from Mira who even with Alysa not weakened is far stronger. "Come now mistress" she purrs, leaning against the woman's body, "it's my turn to show you just how much I desire you"

Mira does not allow Alysa to take control so easily but her eyes do shine with anticipation at the desires displayed by her lover. Instead of lying on her back, she straddles Alysa, letting her pale, firm breasts hang in the blonde's face while she shimmies halfway out of her gown, the fabric now bunched up above her full hips.

'Show me, my beauty,' she whispers. She reaches back to unclasp her necklace and tosses it lightly aside for the moment. 'Show me how much you desire to please me and I shall let you taste how enchanting I find your company.' Unlike some noblewomen, Mira does not have rings on her fingers or even dangling from her ears. The golden bracelet she wears around her left wrist and the slender chain dangling from her ankle are the only decorations her body needs.

Alysa leans forward and her lips find their way to Mira's full breasts, beginning to kiss and nip at them as her working hand trails down to run her fingertips along the woman's full hips, teasingly letting just the tips of her fingers brush against Mira's slit. Her warm lips latch onto Mira's swollen nipples and she begins to suck and lap at the still slightly cool flesh that fills her mouth. Her eyes dart up to Mira's and the woman will find them a deep midnight blue edging towards black as her lust overtakes any remaining pain.

Though Alysa cannot see Mira close her eyes, she can hear the woman's contented sigh. Not unlike the other parts of her body that Alysa has experienced, Mira's bosom is cool on her lips, the turgid nipples a dark coral color. She mews very softly as Alysa's mouth teases her tits and spreads her thighs wider as the blonde's questing hand searches under the layers of cloth around her hips to find her sex.

It is entirely hairless and smooth to Alysa's touch but weeping with some sticky fluid that feels thicker and more cloying than the nectar of her own juices. The bandit might suspect what it is, this gluttinous cold fluid that oozes from inside Mira. Yet the woman shudders when Alysa flicks her hot fingertips against it. Though Alysa is still a novice when it comes to pleasuring another woman, she knows her own body well and, with her roguish knack for interpreting the words and actions of others, she can learn rather quickly.

'Oh, Alysssssa,' Mira breathes, arching her back slightly to offer her lover better access to her body.

The rogue suspects that the liquid clinging to her fingers is blood but does not make an attempt to find out for sure. Her deft fingers soon slide further between Mira's parted thighs and press against her clitoris, experimentally stroking the slick nub with her thumb as her questing fingers dip into the woman's oozing sex, curling her fingers in the same come hither motion Mira had used to coax cries from her own throat.

She pulls her lips from the cool, slick flesh of Mira's nipple and kisses her way down to trail soft kisses and nips along her hipbone, not daring to give in to the urge to go further, knowing if the liquid is blood she will seal her fate. Instead she settles for kissing and nipping along the sensitive and exposed flesh.

"Tell me what you crave mistress" she purrs, letting her warm breath caress Mira's cool skin, "tell me what you desire and it shall be yours tonight and perhaps every night after".

Her own breath is coming in soft pants and whimpers as her fingers explore her lover for the first time, wondering if Mira has ever let anyone else touch her like this since she changed. She suspects that she is not the first to sample the poisoned delight of the vampir's body, but perhaps the only one to do so willingly.

'Ohhhh, Lysssa!' Mira mewls, running her fingers through Alysa's blonde hair, urging her onward. 'That is all I want. I want you to be mine. To be mine tonight and every night. Ohhh, yes!'

If Alysa is still learning, she apparently has found a willing subject for her lessons and one that responds very easily to her touch. The way that Mira's sinuous body ripples slowly, like a slithering serpent, and her nails rake along Alysa's scalp tell the blonde bandit that either Mira is not so difficult to please or that Alysa is more knowledgable in pleasuring another woman that she might have suspected. It could be any number of reasons or combinations thereof but what is clear is that Mira seems to enjoy Alysa's efforts.

The dark haired woman's sex is tight and sucks greedily on Alysa's fingers, even as more of the woman's fluids dribble down her hand.

'Lick me, whore,' Mira groans. 'Oh, yes, you sinful harlot, lick me and taste how much I want you!'

Alysa now realizes just what she's gotten herself into with her teasing. If the liquid on her hands is indeed blood there is no way for her to get away from tasting it once again for even if she refuses, Mira can easily overpower her, especially in her exhausted and drained state. She takes a deep breath and swallows deeply as she pulls her fingers from Mira's sex, bracing herself for the sight of her bloody hand. "Oh yes Mira," she whispers as she trails kisses closer to the woman's sex, bracing herself for the familiar taste of the woman's blood. She holds Mira's hip with her free hand, darting her tongue along her dripping slit.

It appears to be blood but thicker. The flavor is familiar as Alysa has already sampled it twice before, mingled with wine. Yet now she tastes it from the source and it is far more pungent and even more intoxicating. From the moment Alysa's tongue touches the sickly fluid, she has to resist a sudden, unbidden urge to bury her face between Mira's thighs and consume as much as the other woman's body shall yield. The poisoned honey of Mira's loins is far more concentrated and it begins to erode Alysa's will.

'Such a good little girl,' Mira murmurs, 'oh, so very good. Taste me, Alysa. Oh, yes, taste me!'

Alysa whimpers, knowing Mira will interpret the sound as pleasure when really she is fighting with herself, trying to keep control of her senses and resist the tempting posion that threatens to overwhelm her. The spectre's words echo in her mind and she is terrified that she has lost her chance to be free, that this is exactly what Mira intended from the beginning, to cause Alysa to fall for her charms and to poison her even further with this sweet nectar, knowing she cannot resist. The familiar taste coats the bandits lips and tongue and she cannot resist, at least for the moment, burying her face in the woman's shuddering sex, lapping and suckling eagerly at her swollen clitoris, enjoying the fruits of her teasing more than she rightfully should be.

As the liquid flows over her tongue and coats the inside of her throat, Alysa can feel her willpower melting away. Not only does she realize she is lost but she finds that far from caring, she willingly embraces her fate. In her delirium, all she knows is the body of the woman against her and that strange salty sweetness that fills her mouth as Mira cries out and releases a gush of the same fluid. It is as if in the depths of her drunkenness, Alysa cannot stop herself from taking another swallow of rum. Yet this is better than any distilled spirits which the woman has consumed. This is the essence of lust and desire and unspeakable need.

The effect, however, is very similar. Instead of slowly coming to her senses lying on the floor of a pub basement or on the moldering planks of a pier, Alysa is on her back, Mira's gory cunt still grinding against her mouth while the woman has shed her gown, shifted herself so that now she can share the experience.

Her icy tongue darts in and out of Alysa's sex and she can feel the same chill as before along the inside of her thighs. The air is rich with the smell of sex and blood.

In addition to eagerly exploring and tasting the hot velvety folds of her lover, Mira has wrapped her arm around Alysa's leg, holding it up in the air, while some of the fingers of that same hand work industriously into Alysa's exposed ass. She is being taken like a whore and her body, if not her mind, issues not a single complaint but shudders and wriggles in waves of sensation for which the word 'pleasure' is insufficient.

There are far worse ways to perish and Alysa has seen many of them in her years but this is nothing like those. Any pain is easily washed away with every surge of ecstasy through her body.

Alysa's hips buck and grind against Mira's teasing lips as her spinning head finally pulls her back from her reverie. "M-mira" she whimpers against the woman's soaked pussy, her face probably covered with blood as her tongue resumes it torturous caress of Mira's clit, occasionally darting to dip into her tightness, stroking her tongue exploratively against every inch of those velvet walls. She doesn't even realize that she has sealed her fate, digging her own grave as it were with every teasing stroke of her tongue, the power of the woman's touch driving her towards another shattering orgasm even with her face buried in her mistress's soaked cunt.

As each wave crests higher, one after the other, Alysa is carried away by the tide and swept beneath the surface into a cool, pleasant darkness. Even after the passage of time brings her back to the edge of consciousness, she cannot be certain how long she had been asleep. All she knows is that she can barely move. Not only is she entirely without any energy or desire to do so, her will to depart has left her. She knows that this is where she belongs, here with her precious Mira or wherever the woman might travel.

Her flesh aches all over and Alysa shall notice that the throbbing through her sex and along her thighs has returned and it pulses in time with her heartbeat and the pain in her wrist. The bedclothes cling to her body, glued to her by the dried fluids exuded by her lover that now stain her face, her chest and the gown that is still gathered in a band of rumpled cloth around her waist.

All of this she can feel but Alysa cannot see it; it is utterly dark once more.