His skin... almost velvet, the way it felt. A material of the highest snow shade. It's texture was smooth to the touch, with a hint of hair to determine his masculinity.
His eyes... two deep, deep shades of scarlet, like two garnets, each a concentrated sun morphed into a small jewel that always seemed to see past any barrier I put up.
His hair was a wave of onyx, beckoning for me to touch. I just wanted it... I wanted to give into my bete noir, my nightmare. But... alas. I am always to yearn, never to touch.
Vanya Valien never stepped foot into the dark. She was a very, very good girl. However, as the brunette's head hit the pillow, her fantasy world opened up. A dark place of thorns and creatures of the dark - vampires, werewolves, demons, et cetera. It was her world, and she was the queen. Ruling with a passionate blaze to her subjects, this world seemed perfect.
And then there was Vincent*. Vincent never stepped into the light. He was a very, very bad boy, if you know what I mean. When his queen rose from his slumber, he got to work on guiding her through his forbidden fantasies, trying to seduce his mistress until she was his for the taking. She was his treasure - his precious queen.
...one that lone, fateful night...
...she became trapped in his world.