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Daniellas Bureau; A Fanfic & Desktop Site

Author's Note: I had intended this to be much the same as Satiation and Satu, although with differences, given the setting is that night after her flying lesson. As I continued to write it, it turned into something different, an insight into Matthew, which I hope proves true to a facet of his character at least. Enjoy.

Fear or Flight.

Diana opened her eyes to find Matthew gazing back at her from his place between her thighs. He smiled before removing her underwear then kissed his way back up her front to remove her bra. He gathered her up into his arms and underneath the blankets as she resigned herself to another night without further intimacy. He seemed to be brooding on something as she adjusted her position on his chest. Patiently she waited for him to talk.

"There were two women," he said last. "Two human women. Not like this, not like us. But I did love them. And I told each of them that they were safe with me. I even believed it." he paused to look at her, continuing with a tone full of sorrow, "if I ever harm you..."

"Matthew, you will never harm me," she assured him. "I'm not human. I'm powerful. And you won't harm me because you don't want to."

He kissed her hair as she rested on him and for a moment silence reigned. Then she decided to voice the question.

"Is this why you won't further our intimacy?"

"Partially," he answered, his hands continuing to stroke her back. "I still crave you, Diana, and for vampires, mating requires an exchange of blood."

"And you're worried you'll lose control and take too much," she guessed, raising her head to find him nodding in confirmation of her suspicions. "Where?"

"Here," he moved one of his hands from her back to stroke a patch of skin on her chest, where he had dealt a kiss earlier as he explored the flesh not hidden by her bra. "The heart vein. Taking blood from there is meant to reveal your whole self, everything to each other. I never wanted to before. I feared what I would find, what they would find in me. A part of me still fears it. You seem so sure of us, even though you know so little of me. I want to tell you everything, yet a part of me is still afraid that you'll walk away from me after I have. And I wouldn't blame you if you did."

"You shouldn't think so lowly of yourself," she argued softly. "I meant what I said at Sept Tours. We are bound to each other. I feel this chain inside of me, that took hold of you in the courtyard, even before. I'm not going anywhere."
She said with such certainty, such conviction that he felt guilty for testing her, as he had before, as he continued to do, by revealing himself so slowly, delaying their consummation until he had one more sign of her love for him, then another and then another. Yet still there was one more secret he had to tell her.

"I have a condition," he said carefully, watching her as her gaze met his. She was unafraid, still returning his gaze with the assurance of her devotion to him.

"Its called bloodrage," he continued. "It means when I feed I could lose control, take too much. I've learnt to control it over the years, however there are times when that discipline can fail, as it when I first caught your scent that night at the river."

"You weren't in your rooms when I came looking for you," she murmured, putting the puzzle together. "That was why?" he nodded, watching her. "Where did you go?"

"Hamish has a hunting lodge up in Scotland."

Her gaze widened at the distance, yet he could see in compassion in her expression, along with a little guilt.

"You must not blame yourself," he assured her. "You were not to know. Neither of us knew that night what we would become. I thought it was just my bloodrage, though I realise now I should have known it was something more. I had been stalking you for days. Even the hunt quelled my desire for only a while. As soon as we met in my rooms it came rushing back."

"And yet you've held it at bay all this time, while we've been together?" she questioned and he nodded.

"It's been difficult," he acknowledged, "But worth it."

There was a different look in her eyes now, one of hard won determination. "I will only give you up if I'm dangerous to you," she said reluctantly. It would be hard, but she would, for his sake. She loved him too much to put him at risk because of this craving for her, a concern that could prove to be too much along with the threats they faced because of the other forbidden aspects of their relationship. "Am I dangerous to you?"

"I'm dangerous to you, Diana," he countered. "You should give me up."

"But you don't want me to," she divined.

"Dieu, help me, I don't," he replied, pulling her closer to him.

"Then I won't," she vowed, reaching out to stroke his mouth with her thumb once more, a favourite caress of hers. "I told you before, I'm not going anywhere."

She stretched up to kiss him and he helped her as he returned it. What started out as a chaste avowal of her spoken surety turned into something more, as the apex of her thighs brushed his arousal. He growled as she pressed herself upon him, seeking to be closer, wrapping her legs around his. She drew back when she heard the sound, wondering if she should ask him if he was ready for this, only for him to pull her closer as his mouth deepened their kiss.

To her surprise she came to rest on top of him as he lay back against the pillows, his arousal resting between them. Meeting his dark gaze, Diana carefully drew her mound over his cock, gently caressing him, covering him with her juices, preparing him, should he wish to finally consummate their mating. They had done this before in his rooms at Sept Tours, she knew he could withstand the temptations such a motion presented. She wanted him to make the choice, to overcome this deeply held fear, before it drove a wedge between them.

Just as she was about to give in and settle for obtaining their release from this position, he rose upwards from the bed to kiss her passionately. Leaving her breathless, his mouth journeyed down her neck to her chest, peppering her skin with kisses. As she savoured each one, she held out the hope that this was the time. She felt him shift underneath her, until his cock was poised to enter her. His mouth came to rest upon the patch of skin his fingers brushed earlier. He kissed it, cast a look at her to make sure he had her consent, receiving a nod in reply.

Then he thrust his cock inside her as his mouth opened and his teeth broke her skin.

As she adjusted to the feeling of fullness, of having him inside her for the first time, to the pain from the sting bestowed by his sharp teeth, he drew away to met her gaze with his own, surprise marking his features.

Before she could find the breath to ask him about it, he pressed mouth against her once more, while shifting inside her. Curiosity gave way to pleasure, as his thrusts touched that spot he discovered within his rooms at Sept Tours deep within her again and again. He continued to drink from her, until his bite turned into a reverent kiss before he met her gaze once more, stilling his thrusts.

"What did you find?" she asked him softly.

"You," he replied in the same tone, "only you." He drew her into his arms, pressing her gently down on to the bed and kissed her as his thrusts resumed once more.

What followed was a tender, worshipful celebration of their love, as he sought to bring her to peak again and again before surrendering to his own. His mouth was everywhere, as were his fingers, touching her reverently, making sure that she understood how much more precious she was to him now, how deeply he held her trust, not just in him, but of the monster inside him, who had been silenced by what they discovered in her blood, the depth of feeling she had experienced each time they encountered each other. He knew what it was to love her, but to understand her love in return, fully for the first time, to feel her witches blood run through him as well as her was nothing short of miraculous.

He had been alone for so long, judging it to be for the best after what had happened during his previous intimate relationships. He had sworn never to put another at risk from his bloodrage, holding himself at a distance from the world and from others. He considered mating an impossibility, given the risks, not just from the exchange of blood, but from witnessing the grief that Ysabeau and Miriam held, having lost theirs so long ago. Also from the memory of his own loss as a human, that had led him to that fateful fall from the bell tower of the church he built.

Diana had told him about Ysabeau's uncertainty as to whether he slipped or jumped that day. From his own recollection, he knew the truth was a combination of both. He had been distracted by his grief, his desire to get every aspect of the building right, convinced that one imperfection would somehow taint Blanca's and Lucas' passage into heaven. When he slipped from the stonework, he knew that there was the chance to grab hold of something, to save himself. That his motives in choosing not do so were drawn from his desire to join his family, to leave the grief of losing them, of living without them behind.

When Ysabeau came upon him and offered him the chance to have her ease his pain, he had not fully understood what she meant and it was not just because of the pain from his injuries caused by the fall. He knew her family were different from the others in the village, but he did not know why. They were held in high regard not for their wealth but for what they did to help the village, people and land. They used the local crafters, brought and ate part of the local harvests, helped the farmers sell the produce on elsewhere.

Afterwards, as he came to understand what she had meant, he had been angry, at her and at himself and at god for giving him this form of immortality. He let the rage run free for a time, even when he realised about his condition, until Philippe had given him something to do. As the years passed and the occupations changed, depending on which kingdoms he was sent to, the anger dulled into a desire to help, to make a difference. Into a sense of guilt and a need to atone, especially when he came to understood the darker aspects of his position within the family.

Over time, he turned his back on the violence of his nature, exploring advances in science to try and understand the monster inside him, to see if he could discover or create something that could tame it, perhaps even eliminate it. He found techniques to help calm the monster, exercises and ways of thinking, yet nothing so far that to turn into a cure, even when he expanded his research into other creatures.

He did not know exactly what he expected to find if he ever managed to get hold of the Book of Life. He tried not to speculate, to keep his hopes to a minimum. It had been the search for the book which had led him to Diana. Now that search had become a race and something more infinitely precious. He knew that if he was ever faced with a choice, the book or Diana's life, he would chose the latter. He would not even consider if there was a way to obtain both. She was more important. It may be selfish, but his search for the book was not without selfish motives. Both had given him something to live for, but without Diana, he would not truly live.

"So," she began as she resumed her previous resting place against him. "What do I taste like?"

He could not help but smile as held her closer while answering her question. "Magic. Miraculous magic."

THE END

© Danielle Harwood-Atkinson 2021. All rights reserved.

Daniellas Bureau; A Fanfic & Desktop Site