Untitled Master,Lucy, Martha Drabbles

AN: Working in good fashion to bring you all these bits as they spring to life. And they are just randomly numbered for no special reasoning yet.

She struck him.

He asked her why she still wore the ring after all these years had passed.

She hit him in the face with her hand that wore her wedding ring. He stood there in front of her bleeding from hi soft and angelically inviting warm mouth. The smear of his blood on the side of her hand called to her coyly. She could see it was darker than human blood and in this light she swore it had an orange tint to it.

He wondered what she was thinking when she licked his blood off her hand. In truth she wasn't. It was like she had been compelled by his blood to do so. That simple but complex little act set off a fucking firestorm of lust inside of her. No wonder he sexed up almost every woman that came along. He was walking around in a constant state of arousal.

She wasn't sure when she began kissing him taking extra care to suck his wounded lip. Nor could she remember when she pushed him back into her home onto the couch rocking and grinding her pelvis against his obvious erection.

He did remember when she ripped off his top and hers baring her breasts to him. He gladly accepted the offer to ravish them thoroughly only the aching bulge in his jeans stopped him.

They both remembered the moment when he plunged himself into her waiting wet heat. Her remembered her mewling moans and keening cries for his pleasure. She remembered his low growls and pitchy breathing as he gave himself to her over and over again.

He remembered the feel of her walls quaking and tightening around him trying to take him with her on her first orgasmic wave of pleasure. He pushed himself through it forcing his impending climax back. He wanted her to remember this moment forever that he could be this for her.

She remembered the dual pulsing of his hearts,the hard throbbing of his manhood as he thrust himself rather hard and very sharply spilling his seed into her triggering her fourth big O. Her name on his lips like a prayer.

He stilled when he heard his true given name fall from her lips. His true name. Not his chosen name. He knew she didn't need his declarations of love nor would he give them but he gave her his vows and she accepted them as they weren't just hollow words devoid of his emotions.

He tried to contain himself as he felt a tiredness that he had not felt in ages over take him. He joined her in slumber feeling whole and undamaged for the first time in a long time.

They remembered the look on the other man's face as he waltzed in on them not bothering to adhere to the human custom of knocking. The look on his face as he took in the site of them then him then them again.

He remembered how hurt and angry she felt as she ran behind him when he walked out. How broken and defeated she was when she came back and how he lifted her spirits making love to her again.

She was his obsession.

His prize possession.

His very own Dark Lady. He could write so much more about her than Shakespeare ever could.

And he was her slave.

Her Master.