Saints Preserve Us-Revisited

Abbadon relaxed, allowing his muscles to become pliable in Peyton's hands. "Am I now? Maybe you could help with that, Ms. Sawyer." Abbadon purred as he reached for one of her hands on his shoulders, pulling it forward and slowly moving his lips across the top of her hand. He could feel the blood coursing through the smallest veins as he continued his agonizingly slow kisses up her arm, savoring every inch of her skin and scent. He quickly turned around in his chair and stood up. One hand holding her arm out while he kissed up to her neck, his free hand found it's way to rest on against the soft fabric that clung to her waist. "You're a beautiful young woman, Peyton. Are you sure you would like to get involved with me?" He questioned, his voice low as he nibbled on her ear. Not like she had much of a choice at this point.

Peyton found Abbadon's lips tantalizing as they slowly explored the length of her arm, all the way up to her neck. "I believe I could assist you." She murmured breathlessly. It was as though her heart were beating out of her chest by the time his teeth gently nibbled along her ear. Was she certain that she wanted to become involved with Abbadon Solace? If his lips were any indication at how marvellous a time she could have with him, she most certainly signed off on their little endeavors. "I could tell, from the beginning of the night and up until this point, that you aren't like many of the schmucks I have encountered. You're well refined, steady, straightforward, and undoubtedly sexy, all of which I've been seeking. I'll most certainly be fine with whatever this turns out to be as long as you don't stop touching me." Peyton insisted, slipping his hand lower and onto her bottom with her free hand while the other rested lightly on his well defined chest. Even through his well tailored, expensive suit, she could feel the solid, rippling muscles beneath the clothing.

"Very well then." Abbadon spoke slowly, his voice in a low tone with a clear smugness in it. His hand slowly creeped up her back, to just below her neck. Abbadon pulled on the zipper, teasingly, only tugging it a few inches down. His lips mapped out her neck, his tongue pressing, searching for weak spots. The blood was pulsing under her skin, the heat rising into his kisses, the scent of her blood was flooding his senses. He tested himself, biting down on her soft, supple skin. "I think you are in for many for several surprises tonight, Ms. Sawyer." Abbadon pulled on her ear lobe before moving away from her momentarily, only to move behind her. "Now. Bend over." Abbadon's voice was firm as he pressed down on Peyton's back, leaning her over the polished mahogany desk, his other hand, pulling down the zipper the rest of the way down.

Peyton was entirely turned on by how forcible Abbadon had become with her. It wasn't in a threatening manner, but instead by someone who clearly preferred to be the dominant one in their encounter, something that did not cause her any grief. Doing as she was told, she bent over the desk, only giving enough time from when he had unzipped her dress to free her arms from the sleeves and let it drop down to her ankles, easily kicking it away from her. The lingerie her breasts and nether-regions adorned were skimpy and covered in lace, enhancing every voluptuous curve her figure embodied. Rather than butterflies, it felt as if her stomach encompassed Pterodactyls rather than the butterfly effect one typically would endure in times of bliss such as now.

Abbadon stood back for a moment, observing the body in front of him. His eyes grazed over her, from her long blonde hair that fell over her back and to the side, the unblemished skin of her back which showed the slightest glimpse of her spine, to her legs which were only emphasized by the stilettos. "Those stilettos, make your ass look exquisite." Abbadon lightly groped her as he tossed his jacket to the side and unbuttoned his shirt, sending it in the same direction. His hands wandered up and down the fragile skin on her back, lightly massaging it as he unbuckled his belt and let his pants and briefs slide to the floor. Abbadon unsnapped her strapless bra and let one hand play with her breasts. "Ready?" He questioned rhetorically, grabbing a handful of her hair and pulling her head back slightly as he braced his hand on her mid back as he thrust hard into her, staying deep and unmoving as he awaited her reaction.

Peyton's heart skipped a beat at the sound of his own zipper come undone and his own clothing fall to the floor. It had been far too long since she had been pleasured well. The last several men had been sloppy and underdeveloped, neither of which Abbadon seemed to present to her. She gasped at the mixture of both pleasure and pain as he forcibly took her from behind. She used her hands to brace herself along the large, mahogany desk before table, and was able to see both of their reflections in the well polished desk, though not as clearly as she had wished. Peyton's hopes were high that he would turn her over and do her on the table. She wanted to get a glimpse of his well-toned body and that amatory ass of his before the night's end, one she hoped would dwell on until the next morning. She had no desire to leave him without a few romps if he pleased her well enough.

Abbadon smirked as Peyton moaned, only prompting him to pull her blonde locks a bit harder as he picked up pace in her, he quickly found himself leaning over her back, his hands placed over hers holding them down to the desk as he thrust hard into her, his lips grazing her neck. His fangs exposed themselves at the intoxicating smell of sex and blood mixing in the air. He couldn't help himself when he let his fangs graze her skin just enough to bring a few droplets of blood to the surface, he lapped them up eagerly and hoped that Peyton wouldn't notice that he had bitten her to draw blood just yet. A few drops were enough to tide him over as he pulled out and flipped her over on the desk. "You like that, don't you Ms. Sawyer?" He caressed her cheek and brought his lips to hers in a gentle kiss before he thrusted back into her, resting one hand on the edge of the desk, the other kneading her chest as he slowed down his pace but added much more power behind it.

Peyton had had her share of kinky encounters, but if she had to size them up, Abbadon was definitely the most forceful, yet somehow, most pleasureable of them all. An uncontrollable moan escaped from her lips as he turned her around, managing to break the string of kisses she was very much enjoying. Was she enjoying herself? It was a stupid question to say the least, one that was likely asked only for an ego boost to himself. That, or he was continuing to make her his bitch and continued on his role of dominance. Either way, the answer was all the same, and unashamedly so. "Ye-es." Peyton moaned, her nails digging into his back. The was no question that the force she used would leave marks trailing to various parts of his body including his muscular ass. If it would interfere with his sex life, she was terribly sorry, but for now she did not feel any remorse, neither did she think too far ahead into the future.

"Of course you do." Abbadon purred into her ear as he nibbled on it, her bites and scratches didn't phase him one bit. If anything- he only enjoyed this that much more due to her actions. Did he have a bit of an ego? Certainly. But as far as he was concerned-he deserved it. He liked to be in control. He liked to dominate. He was good at it too. Abbadon began to thrust rougher into her as he neared his climax. His hands griped the wooden desk hard enough to leave marks on the smooth surface before he finally began to slow down. Making sure he had pleasured Peyton to her expectations before he pulled out. Abbadon flashed a smile at her, not because he had just given her a proper fucking but he smiled at her naivety. He knew he would almost feel bad about kill this one. He pulled his pants back up to his waist and reached for his white button up, slipping it onto Peyton's shoulders before he stretched out on the black leather couch and patted next to him, wanting Peyton near by.

Peyton accepted the white button down that Abbadon had provided. It clearly belonged to a large man, because even standing at 5' 6'', the oversized shirt still reached to her knees. She pushed the sleeves up a bit before finding herself comfortably sprawled beside Abbadon on the supple leather couch. As her breathing became more regulated, Peyton tilted her head toward him to get a better glance, studying his face carefully. His eyes were closed, yet it was clear he wasn't sleeping. His jawline was strong, harsh, and cleanly shaven, his eyebrows well groomed, and his lips curved into a devilishly pleased smile. She marvelled in confusion how someone could be as beautiful as the man lying next to her. Peyton ran her fingertips along the muscular arm that was wrapped around her waist, tracing where the muscles bulged when he tensed at her touch.

Abbadon's dark eyes flickered open, his pupils had changed, they were slited-much like a snakes now. Though how noticeable that was in the dimly lit room he wasn't sure. He reached out for Peyton and pulled her onto his lap, leaning her head against his chest. He felt at ease-something that was fairly unfamiliar to him. He looked out over the city from the couch as he reached for his wine glass from earlier and took a sip before he offered it to Peyton. "This is nice." He purred quietly, stroking her hair, separating one piece from the rest and curling it around his finger. The compliment he had given was a rare one. Not many people satisfied him like Peyton had, in fact there was a very few on a long list of women. He could see two small drops of blood staining the white shirt red near the back of the neck. Oh well he shrugged at the loss of a favorite shirt and pulled Peyton a bit closer. "So. How's the view from here?" He teased kissing her hair.

Peyton relaxed against Abbadon's chest, her face finding itself nuzzled in the curve of his neck while her cheek rested along his shoulder. A slight smile crossed her lips at the compliment he provided her. She was used to compliments after sex, she was a pretty outstanding one in the sack afterall, but there was much sincerity in the way he spoke. That was what earned a genuine smile rather than the phony ones she would muster up with many of her one night stands. Reaching up to run her fingers through his hair, Peyton met his teasing laughter with a playful eyeroll and matching smile. "I much prefer the view from here. I believe it may be the best in the city." She grasped the glass of wine he offered to her. She brought it to her lips before pausing. "Particularly naked." She added with a sly smile, sipping the contents before offering it back to Abbadon.

Abbadon's mind was elsewhere as he took the glass back and set it on the side table. He was contemplating how he would end her life. Or well rather if he had too. He had an odd feeling of attachment to her. His lips pursed, his fangs biting into the inside of his lip in thought. Peyton was beautiful, she was good in bed, submissive, smart. He mulled over his options. He supposed he didn't have to kill her, he could always keep her as his own little pet, but he wasn't sure how well that would go over with her either. It could end up to the point of frustration where she ended up dead by his hand anyway and he had wasted a lot of time and effort. "Ms. Sawyer, tell me everything you know about me." He spoke firmly, his eyes fixated on a point in the distance as he stroked her hair.

Peyton nuzzled against Abbadon's chest, becoming quite comfortable against his warm body as the sun had set, leaving the room much darker than when they had first arrived. She thought quietly to herself, trying to recall all the information he had been able to share with her prior to playing in his office. "As you stated at dinner, you mentioned you lived in Louisiana, you do business in stocks, and you are, apparently, far too old for me. On the first night we met, I do recall you claiming to be an angel, and though you spoke in complete seriousness, I could not help but question your mental state, be it altered with some disorder or the blatant use of narcotics. You were terribly beaten up and your words slurred." She commented, draping one of her legs across his in, what was, an effort to cuddle - something that greatly surprised her. She was not one for excess affection, especially if it were with someone she had just recently met, but she felt a sense of peace lying next to Mr.Solace.

Abbadon let Peyton's words steep in his mind for a few minutes, he was quite. His face solemn as his eyes remained fixated on the horizon. His lips pursed in thought and his hand grazed up and down Peyton's legs as he mulled his options over:
A) Go ahead and kill her tonight. Make sure she can't slip a word out to anyone about anything.
B) Keep her around until he grew tired of her and risk her either finding out things, or letting the cat out of the bag.
C) Making her his own little toy.
He weighed the pros and cons of each. If he went with A, well then, he couldn't have much more fun with her but he wouldn't have lose sleep over anything. B, he could see how that would end badly, not to mention the others typically knew what he was up to. And C, somehow he knew Peyton wouldn't take well to being kept as a slave for his own amusement.

Peyton relaxed at Abbadon's touch, the up and down trailing of his fingers sending her into an almost trance-like state. Peyton brought a well maincured finger up to his chin, running over the hard, strong lines of it before speaking. "Rest assured, I'm an artist, not a cop. I have no intentions of cuffing you and throwing you in a cell." Oh no, she wouldn't risk this lust-driven relationship. She had far more planned for the two of them, all of which wouldn't be possible if he were locked inside some prison for having a sweet spot for narcotics. Smiling slightly, she spoke again. "Well, unless you like that sort of thing." She murmured in niaveity, pressing her lips lightly to the underside of his jaw. "Does it truly matter how much I know of you? As I see it, you're charming, an incredible fuck, and you have the build of a God. Do we need to know every gory little detail to enjoy ourselves?" The question was an honest one. She was looking for a relationship she could have fun in, one that didn't focus on the long term. Abbadon seemed like the perfect accomplice.

"I'm not worried about cops, Ms. Sawyer. They could do no more harm to me than a paperclip." Abbadon stated his now snake-like eyes flickering over towards her. He gently pushed her lips away from his jaw line, anymore tempting him and things wouldn't end up well for Peyton. He hadn't had time to make up his mind yet, but he very well knew his bloodlust could make it up for him. "I actually believe you would be much happier to not know all the details-big or small. You might prefer to know they way you do now." Abbadon was happy that she was at least half as naive as she came off. He wasn't all to intent on letting her escape though, he didn't trust anyone that much-no matter how oblivious they seemed. He wasn't about to end his fun with her though. She could entertain him much better than most women could, human or otherwise. Peyton did what she was told and she did it well.

Peyton brushed off the sligh rejection without a second thought. She had every intention of pleasing Mr.Abbadon Solace for as long as her little heart desired. The lavish lifestyle he lived, which allowed a few nice treats for herself, was something she wished to keep ongoing for as long as he would permit. He was a peculiar man, always speaking as if she knew next to nothing, yet she didn't feel unintelligent in the least with him. It certainly went along with the need for control and domination that he seemed to possess, after all. She wrapped her arms around herself, pressing herself closer to Abbadon as she began growing cold in the well air conditioned room. Her head was nestled lightly on his large chest, the sound of his heartbeat slow and rhythmatic underneath her. "I have had a splendid time tonight, Mr.Solace. Perhaps we could do this again. Soon." Peyton insisted, brushing the golden locks away from her eyes as she sized up his reaction.

"Most Certainly, Ms. Sawyer." Abbadon assured, letting his large arm fall over her shoulder. His eyes looked over her carefully examining her. He moved away from her for a moment, and made his way back to his desk. Shuffling through the drawers he found a small first aid kit that he pulled neosporian and two bandaids. "You're bleeding-I guess I got a bit rougher than I would of liked too." Abbadon gestured for Peyton to sit up and he pulled the back of her shirt down, doctoring up several small puncture wounds that could be traced directly back to a mouth full of very sharp teeth-not that he planned on informing her about that. "I'm making a trip back to Louisiana soon, another week." He began as he carefully placed the bandaid over her skin. "I would be ecstatic if you would join me." He pressed the edges of the bandaids to ensure they stuck in place. Abbadon was asking to be nice, but she really didn't have a whole lot of choice.

Peyton sat up straight, back erect, as Abbadon began to doctor the small wounds inflicted upon the back of her neck during their little escapade earlier. She hadn't noticed she had been bleeding until pulling the shirt down to begin to cleaning up and bandaging the wound, allowing her to see tiny blood drops staining the collar of his shirt. "I hardly noticed you were too rough. I thoroughly enjoyed myself." Her mind reeled at the idea of going out on the arm of such a wealthy and sexual predator such as Abbadon. It took no time at all to settle on his offer accompanying him to Louisiana. "I would be much obliged to join you, Abbadon. Though I must say you need to inform me on what the weather is like. I have yet to travel to the South, so I'm afraid I know nothing about the climate." Peyton offered nonchalantly, reaching for the glass of wine at her feet and taking another sip. though she had been drinking throughout the night, she was no where near inebriated.

"This time of year, it's quite nice. Not much rain-well not much for the amount they usually get. It stays in the 70s mostly. If you couldn't find anything to wear. I'm sure I could a pick a few outfits that you wouldn't get to warm in." Abbadon winked at her as he resumed his seat on the couch. He had no intentions of returning to Chicago anytime soon, but he didn't plan on telling Peyton that. At least if he could get her in an area where he reigned supreme it would be that much easier for him to have his way. "I have a beautiful old plantation home there. You'll love it." He assured, he had oversaw the building of it several hundred years ago, he was quite confident in the appearance of it. "It's about 45 minutes from New Orleans. I'm sure we can find something fun to do there. The nightlife is great." Abbadon encouraged playing with the tips of Peyton's long, golden hair.

Peyton indulged in the idea of a hundred year old plantation house nestled away in a discreet area. She always had a soft spot in her heart for older homes, and knowing he was wealthy enough to afford one, that was, beyond question, at market value of at least one million, only sweetened the deal of traveling so far with him. The flirtatious wink cast from Abbadon brought a small smile about her lips. "It sounds quite lovely there. I shall get packing right away, but feel free to assist me in finding something delicious to wear." A sensuous, lingering kiss was Peyton's departure as she began her hunt for the clothing she had worn to dinner. She dropped the oversized button down at her feet as she pulled the cheeky lace underwear over her toned bottom before bending for the matching push-up lying a few feet away on the floor. "Tell me, Abbadon, we are we leaving for Louisiana?"

Abbadon drove the silver Mercedes rental car up an aged, wrought iron gate-which despite it's rustic appearance had been completely mechanized and opened with ease after Abbadon had punched in a code. Oak trees lined the dark gravel road which gave way to a large, white plantation style home. Several smaller, old wooden buildings dotted the large estate out in distance-there was no doubt they had previously been slave quarters. "Welcome to my humble adobe, Ms. Sawyer." Abbadon smirked as he pulled up in front of the stairs in the circular driveway. He opened the door for Peyton before he reached for 3 suitcases. One his, One Peyton's and one he had prepared for Peyton. "I sincerely hope you enjoy your stay." He purred in her ear as he opened two heavy oak doors. The doors revealed a beautiful, 18th century home. Though the inside was light and airy, it gave an overall feeling of grandeur. A wide staircase was the center of the foyer, that opened up to the living room and two hallways.

Peyton stared in awe as the car rolled up the drive, studying the well kempt home with mezmerized eyes. She believed there was no such sight that could beat the beauty of this magnificently aged plantatino house she would call home for the next little while. "Mr.Solace, I have to say that your home is without a doubt the most flamboyant one I've ever laid eyes upon." Peyton cooed, taking her time as she climbed the front steps leading to the porch. There was much to enjoy, visually, and she would insist on a tour of the entire plantation before their stay had ended. The feeling of his eyes upon her slowly dragged her out of the blissful state she succombed to momentarily, and she forced herself inside, pushing the heavy wooden doors behind her. "Why you would leave for Chicago when you have such a beautiful home here, I will never know, but I must be delighted that you did so, otherwise I would never have been graced with its beauty." She was falling head over heels in love with this home and she had yet to see what all it offered. "Do show me where you and I will be staying." Peyton insisted, slipping her arm through his and insisting he give her a small tour.

"Old friends and business." Abbadon explained as he flashed a smile at Peyton as he stepped towards the living room. The ceilings were high, the walls painted white, the floors were a light pine. Large french style windows lined either side of the brick fireplace. Around the room were oil paintings of men who looked suspiciously similar to Abbadon, but each one was dressed in clothing from a different era. Several cream colored plush couches surrounded the fireplace, accented by a driftwood coffee table and matching end tables . A white grand piano was set off to the side and a large white area rug covered a good amount of the floor. "This is the living room." He gestured his hand towards the middle of the room. "Everything is orignal-the floors, walls, fireplace. The house was built in 1834." Abbadon explained as he put his hands on a runner table behind the couch which held a globe with different stones representing countries and a few books stacked next to it.