Visitation

"Prince Sebastian de la Croix d'Olmen."

When Sascha bowed, it was with an almost boneless grace, except that the ridges of her spine showed themselves so beautifully that it was obvious they had been sculpted with an artist's discerning eye. Any Toreador with taste would have been held enraptured by the sight.

As it was, they were alone, and Sebastian's practiced and unnecessary breath hitched as Sascha pressed her lips to her ring finger.

Alone, and yet Sascha held not only to respectful tradition but to a show of such devotion that only another Ventrue could have hoped to understand it. Sebastian could not refuse to meet her in kind.

"Priscus Sascha Vykos, Angel of Caine." The return of her title, the greeting, was with all the respect and dignity that a Ventrue Prince could muster, but it was with all the affection that Sebastian felt in her unbeating heart that she continued, "Please, rise. It's been so long... I had no idea you were coming."

"I nearly stayed away," Sascha admitted, straightening again. When Sebastian came around the desk to embrace her, she returned it with a squeezing affection. "But I have missed you, Milan. And from what I hear, the Sabbat in Los Angeles is wayward and impulsive, perhaps as dangerous to itself as any around it. I wish to offer my help to them, and to you."

It was well explained, and Sebastian relaxed against her. She knew well that Sascha wanted to avoid being overbearing, didn't want to insult her by implying that she needed her Sire to swoop in to rescue her. It was anathema to the Ventrue in her to think that she could not solidify her hold on her own Domain without outside help. And she had passed the agoge, had earned her position as a Prince despite her age; she was every bit as much a Ventrue as any other, as much as she was a Tzimisce.

That she disapproved of the local Sabbat's actions was not a surprise to anyone who knew Sascha Vykos, much less as well as Sebastian did. That she wished to guide them, not solely to help Sebastian, was believable. And Sebastian needed to balance her impulses, she knew; she should not have to rely on others to hold her Domain, but did she not deserve the support of those who believed in her? Certainly she did!

She nodded against Sascha's shoulder, then pulled back slightly to look at her. "The local Archbishop was using vozhd until very recently. They could certainly use your advice. Though if they would value it as much as I..."

Sascha actually looked taken aback. "Vozhd are a terrible idea in modern nights. Completely uncontrollable. Did he at least send them away?"

"No. A fledgling in my employ destroyed them. Aeon."

"A fledgling destroyed multiple vozhd?"

A month-old fledgling. Sebastian didn't specify, just smiled a little helplessly. "Yes. I hope to formally adopt them as my Childe soon, actually."

"Do so." Sascha warmed to that idea quickly, reaching up to frame Sebastian's face in her hands. "It sounds as if you have at least some of the support that you deserve."

"The situation here has been improving," Sebastian admitted. In large part due to Aeon. "The Kuei-Jin are still unspeakably dangerous, and the Anarchs refuse to come to the table. If anyone could convince the local Sabbat to see reason, it would be you." She closed her eyes, turning her head to kiss Sascha's palm almost reverently. "But you know you have full permission to operate in any domain of mine, Sascha."

"The Kuei-Jin here make themselves the enemy of us all," Sascha noted. "Yes, Sebastian. I will do my best to help these Sabbat help themselves." She kissed Sebastian's forehead, then added teasingly, "Do you have any pressing engagements this evening, Prince LaCroix of Milan?"

Sebastian laughed. "Always," she said, wry but with warmth writ large in her voice and on her face. "But there's still an hour and a half until the Primogen are scheduled to meet. You're welcome to stay. Including to announce your intentions to the Primogen, if you like."

Sascha smiled, nuzzling her face into Sebastian's neck; Sebastian tilted her head to allow the motion more easily, swallowing pleasantly. "You're certain? I would be glad to show how pleased I am with you."

"They may not realize what a vied-for compliment that is among Princes," Sebastian said dryly. "But I'm positive. I may not be able to claim both of my clans, Sascha, or you as my Sire, but I have never been ashamed of you. I've been open about learning from the brilliant minds of many clans, not simply Ventrue." She reached up to take hold of Sascha's hand in a very particular, purposeful grip, palm to palm with her, fingers barely between hers, not quite laced, the indication of a cherished ally and companion. "I would gladly announce you as one of my most respected, dearest teachers."

"The decades and the pressures could not change you," Sascha whispered against the soft skin of her throat, and Sebastian closed her eyes. "You are as precious to me as the night I Embraced you."

"Kiss me," Sebastian entreated, voice barely above a whisper herself. She didn't mind which Sascha interpreted her request as, kiss or Kiss, and she sighed as the beautiful curve of Sascha's fangs broke her skin and that familiar ecstasy swept through her.

It wasn't a dry bite, but Sascha barely drank from her; she bit due to the hunger for her taste, she didn't need the blood. They kissed with the taste of Sebastian's blood still in her mouth; Sebastian let Sascha lead her where she would, half expecting the bedroom, half expecting one of them to end up sitting on her desk, excited by both thoughts. Somehow, though, she found herself at the window, Sascha's back to the windowsill, Sascha's hands in her hair and one of her legs up and wrapped around Sebastian's waist with unspeakable flexibility and grace.

"Here." Her fingers worked at Sebastian's belt, and Sebastian held onto her, giving her that freedom, happy to let her open her pants and pull out Sebastian's cock; if she had not been hard before from the bite and their kissing she would have been then. "In front of your city, the Domain you have earned, Milan."

It was a startlingly erotic thought, but Sebastian still found herself watching Sascha's face, not the city, as Sascha opened herself and guided her inside. She was wet and she squeezed around her in a blissful rhythm, and Sebastian rocked into her and loved the pleasure in her expression, the joy in her black eyes.

She lasted only a few minutes with Sascha's alien pussy determinedly milking her. Sascha reached between them as she came, stroking her and encouraging her to stay hard with Vicissitude, murmuring encouragement as she undulated her hips.

Her head dropped to Sascha's shoulder, and she wound up looking out over the city after all, dazed and letting her eyes trace over the lights of Los Angeles in the darkness, not focusing on any one thing in particular. She and Sascha moved together, Sascha making hungry sounds as her own pleasure built slow and steady, until Sascha's hand was in her hair and guiding Sebastian's mouth to her throat. She bit, eyes slipping closed and blocking out the city as she felt Sascha's hips jerk, her cunt fluttering and squeezing around her. Sascha hadn't made it impossible or even any harder for her to come, and she soon spilled into her again, moaning and pressing kisses to Sascha's neck where the smooth green skin had healed up after the bite.

"We have a little time yet before your meeting," Sascha said, smoothing Sebastian's hair back into place as they both came down from that pleasure. Her leg still wrapped around her, still content to have Sebastian inside of her. "Shower with me. And then, I suppose, I will go and find some suitable clothing, so as to be presentable for polite Kindred society."

Sebastian kissed the corner of her mouth, then raised her hand to kiss it as well. "You are always presentable." She smiled, then, seeing Sascha start to smile, and amended, "Though perhaps not at this very moment."

"Then let us remedy that, Milan."