Age at Death: 21
Born in 1160 in the Kingdom of Jerusalem, I was a slave to a merchant and caught in the cross fire during the Crusade. I nearly died, but an mysterious stranger saved me by giving me the Dark Gift. I had traveled throughout Europe since than. Currently reside in London as a modiste.
(NSFW. This is an independent rp account, I am not Nijah, nor Alexandra Daddario)
Nijah whimpered at his hand on her breast and felt her nipple harden under the fabric of her dress at his touch. She pulled her head a little away from him and gazed at the glisten dark velvet eyes of his through her long lashes, the back her right hand touched the side of his cheek feathery, while her other hand continue to stroked his throbbing arousal beneath his jeans and pants.
“Addicting…” She smirked. Her breath also became ragged: “Addicting like tabacco, addicting like drugs, addicting like alcohol, addicting like adventure and especially addicting like you. “
“Hmmm…” He raised his eyebrows at her, liking the answer. Nijah was smooth, like himself. And it made the game even more fascinating. Innocent, naive first time virgin might be fun at first, but Amadeus overall preferred independent, seasoned women.
Her hand stroking him, bringing waves of pleasurable sensation. Amadeus’ eyes met hers, he licked his lips and starred straight back. A hand sliding down her thigh, lifting her skirt and crept in under the fabric, searching for the forbidden garden.
Like a cat being stroke, the vampire closed her eyes briefly with pleasure as his hand stroking and caring her thigh. She wiggled her hips to allow the skirt to be lifted easier, and almost moaned out with delight when his fingers touch the outer folds of her pleasure center, moist and damp from her rapid arousal. Her hand hastily pushed away his jeans and underpants, feeling his length rested in the palm and started her teasing anew. Her lips once again found his, her tongue trusted into his mouth and sparred with his with hunger.