Consensual | Sacha/Alise (MATURE)

Russian Townhouse
Night

Sacha had apparated them from the tavern (he had known, of course, that Alise was a witch), depositing them in the entrance hall of the small townhouse he kept on the outskirts of St. Petersburg.

"I'd offer you the tour," he murmured, stopping to kiss her soundly before trailing fevered kisses down the nape of her neck, "but... I think... the tour... can wait." Sacha brought his lips back to hers, angling her head to kiss her more deeply.

"Don't you?" the man whispered huskily.

Alise unwrapped her legs from his waist, depositing herself on to the ground in front of him. Her hands slipped down to his back, slipping into the pockets and pulling his hips closer.

"I think you should shut up," she growled into his lips, obviously not interested in the sweet talk, "Don't you?"

Sacha managed a throaty chuckle, kissing her again. It wasn't like the first time he'd kissed her; this was neither gentle nor in any way polite. Instead, it was forceful and thorough, his tongue ravaging her mouth.

Somehow (probably only through a lot of practice), Sacha navigated their way up the stairs to the second floor. At the top of the staircase, he guided them to the right and into the master bedroom. Pushing her into the wall, he trailed a line of nips and kisses along her neck as his fingers worked impatiently on the buttons of her blouse.

Alise had stumbled up a few of the stairs, her hands roaming around his body. Her eyes were half closed, focusing on the toe-curling kiss. Merlin, he was good. Obviously not his first time doing stuff like this.

As he worked at her buttons, she ran her fingers through his hair and down to his chest, a smirk growing on her face. With the other hand, she reached for his collar. In a soft twist of her arms, she popped the buttons of his shirt, ripping most of them off.

"Oppsie," she laughed, voice low as she reached for his shoulder.

Sacha had just unfastened the last of her buttons when Alise tore most of the ones on his own shirt off. Undoing the only one that had been fastened and survived, he shrugged the garment off, tossing it aside.

"You women," he murmured, his hands lightly brushing her flesh as he moved them under her blouse, sliding it over her shoulders and down her arms. "So impatient." His hands trailed back up her sides, caressing her breasts through the fabric of her bra before moving around her back to unclasp it. Once it was out of the way, he pressed a hand firmly into the small of her back, pulling her flush against him, before pulling her towards the bed.

He wanted her naked and in bed. Soon, he would have both.

Later


Alise watched the ceiling intently, her legs tangled in the sheets. With a small breath, she blew a piece of hair out of the face before propping herself onto her shoulders. She looked at her partner for a moment, then rolled off the bed. She didn't bother to cover up; she simply sashayed to the bedroom door.

"Hey, Sam or whatever your name was," she turned around, hand going to her necklace. She twisted the stone in between her fingers idly, then asked, "Where's the bathroom? I wanna take a shower,"

She looked down the hallway with a small grin. It probably had a bathtub. She hadn't taken a bath in years; cost too much money to fill a tub.

"Oh, that was nice, by the way," she added, "Very nice,"

Sacha - Sam, for the moment, apparently - propped himself up on his own elbows, watching her appreciatively. She was a beautiful woman, that was certain. Young, undoubtedly, compared to him. At thirty-one, most people were starting to seem pretty young, however.

Smirking, he inclined his head to the other door leading out of the room and into the master bath. "You could walk around, of course," Sacha remarked. "Though, I can't promise the corridor wouldn't be a bit nippy." He leaned back again against his pillow, an arm tucked behind his head.

The alcohol had worn off a bit so that he was starting to get the nagging feeling that he had forgotten something. Deciding it didn't matter and that if it were really important, he'd remember in the morning, he went back to studying her in the dim lighting.

Alise looked back at the door, cocking her head. "Thought that was a closet," she remarked dryly, strolling over to the door. She flipped on the light and flinched at it's intensity, a bit shocked at how much her head was pounding already.

"I need a cigarette," she remarked for a second time, strolling into the room. With a flick of her wrist, the tub started to fill, the shower head pouring warm water.

She hadn't bothered to close the door; Why would she? It wasn't like she was hiding anything. He seemed to enjoy watching her earlier anyway.

"I'll be quick," she called, stepping in. A quick rinse and shampoo later, she stepped out, grabbing a towel.

"Nice place you got here,"

Sacha had his eyes closed when she returned, though he wasn't asleep. He wasn't that trusting of people he hardly knew.

A vial of hangover remedy sat atop the dresser just inside the door.

"It's comfortable, I suppose," he agreed. "I don't spend a lot of time here. I literally spend most of my time in my office." Which had living quarters, of course. He also spent time at the tiny cabin in the forest on Durmstrang Isle. This house was largely for show and a place to meet with people for various reasons.

"Have a nice shower? Or was that the world's quickest bath? You could have taken your time, you know. Unless you're in a hurry." He shrugged, opening his eyes too look at her.

Alise picked up the vial and twirled it in her hands before setting it down again. SHe didn't trust strange vials; that invited trouble.

"Comfortable? Hell, the bathroom is bigger than my bedroom!" she walked over and crawled on the bed with a smirk, "Someone has a lot of money, don't they?"

Alise straddled his waist, running a hand through her wet hair. The rest of her was still a bit wet too, but she didn't care.

"It's polite to leave after you're done with what you need in some countries," she shrugged, "Most guys want me out quickly,"

Sacha smirked in amusement when she refused the hangover remedy. It was a rather distinctive concoction, but whatever suited her.

He inclined his head. "Perhaps," he responded modestly. He ran the back of his fingers along her bare arm, enjoying the way she was positioned over him.

"Well, I believe we can agree that I'm not most guys," Sacha remarked. "The least I could do is provide you a place to stay until a decent hour. It's not safe to wander about in the middle of the night."

Alise raised a brow, placing a hand on his chest for support. "I find all men are the same on the inside," she said flatly, "But, thanks. It'll be nice to stay with a rich guy,"

She gave a teasing smile then rolled off of him, reaching for her shirt. She could just go home, but, last time, she had returned to find a trashed flat and angry letter from her ex. And she couldn't deal with that at the moment.

"Why is your place so empty?" she asked, "Hiding things from a wife or something?"

Sacha ignored the jab. It wasn't the first time he'd heard such a thing, nor did he suspect it would be the last. Besides, it was fundamentally true. Everyone was the same on the inside. Men were men, and women were women - all the same; all selfish.

"Not married," Sacha remarked lightly. "Never saw the point. And the reason this place is empty is because I keep it mostly for business. I meet with people often, sometimes here, most of the time, here is simply closer. I have little need to keep it well-furnished or stocked as I am seldom here."

Alise nodded softly, pulling her shirt slowly. Her green eyes met his for a moment, then pulled away softly.

"Marriage is overrated anyway," she leaned back again, then let out a laugh. "It's completely stupid,"

She touched her necklace again, thinking of what to say. Used for business. She was just business, of course, but it sort of hurt to hear it. She was almost a prostitue when he said it like that.

"So, there's no food here?" she joked.

"Greatly," Sacha agreed.

She had misunderstood. He could see it in the line of her shoulders. She was not what he had meant when he'd referred to business, though, when he brought women 'home', this was often where he brought them. The man might have explained, clarified, but he doubted he'd even see her again. Why bother?

"Well, there's food," Sacha replied. "Non-perishables in the pantry. The ice-box is spelled to allow access to anything I have in the ice-box in my office.

"I could make you something, if you like," he offered.

Alise grabbed her underwear from the floor and stood up. She stepped into her undergarmets then looked back at him.

"It's cool; I can get myself something. Don't bother yourself with me," she said, walking to the door, "I'm not even that hungry. Alcohol is so calorie dense, you know?" she wiggled her hips slightly, "I gotta watch my figure,"

Sacha raised a brow but didn't protest. If she wanted to cook for herself, she was more than welcome to do so.

His lips curved into a smile. "Oh, trust me," he returned, "You're not the only one watching it."

Alise flashed a smile as she left the room. Strolling down the hall, she eyed the banister with a strange curiosity.

She couldn't. She's too old for that. Yet...

Taking the banister in her hand, she managed to hop up on it and slide down. She laughed, thinking it was all fun and games. Then, at the end of the stairs, she fell back off of the railing with a shriek.

Letting out a string of curses, Alise sat up and rubbed the back of her head with a grin. How epic. She'd have to do that again sometime.

Realizing her fall was loud, the woman leaned to call up the stairs, "I'm alright!"

Sacha leaned with his elbows against the top of the banister, gazing down at her, the corner of his mouth twitching in amusement. At some point, he had put on a pair of shorts, though the rest of him remained unclad.

"Sure about that?" he asked, tone lightly teasing. "You know, I do believe you are the first person to have slid down my banister."

lise stood up, shaking her head. She could feel a bump forming where she hit the floor, but she ignored the pain with a smile.

"The first? Wow, I feel special," she laughed, leaning against the rail, "You should try it some time. It's super fun,"

She ran a hand through her hair with a wicked grin. "And someone like you needs some fun once and a while,"

Sacha raised a brow at her. "I have plenty of fun in my life," he informed her. Nonetheless, he straightened and moved around to the top stair, seating himself on the sturdy wood banister.

He slid down it, lifting his hips as he reached the bottom. The man landed on his feet with a grace that was either completely unfair for him to possess or spoke to his other extracurricular activities.

Sacha shot her a small grin, not above being a bit of a show off now and then.

"You're right. Quite fun, indeed."

Alise rolled her eyes and stuck out her tongue, heading to where she imagined the kitchen was.

"Sure you do, sweetheart," she waved a hand dismissively, "I'm sure guys who act like they are 50 have tons of fun,"

She strolled into the kitchen, the floor cold upon her feet. She really didn't plan on eating, not when she had drunk so much, anyway. Instead, she went through the cabinets, looking for a glass for water.

Sacha gave an amused smirk, following her into the kitchen since he was downstairs, anyway.

"I do not act like I am fifty," he replied calmly. "I was simply raised to comport myself with a certain amount of dignity." The man shrugged. "It's good for business; helps instill confidence in those with whom I work."

He rested his hands on her hips as she rummaged through one of the cabinets. Placing a light kiss on the back of her shoulder, he moved away again, stepping over to the icebox where he took out two bottles of water. He offered one to her as he leaned against the counter.

Alise took the water with a grin, twisting open the cap with ease. She took a long drink, then leaned into him and pressed her cold lips into his shoulder.

"You know," she said softly, "That's exactly what some over fifty would say,"

Leaning away again she took another sip, her other hand traveling to her collar bone subconisiously.

"You must have had some upbringing, then," she remarked, "I mean, my mom just taught me not to break the law and that the stove was hot," she cracked another grin, "I figured out the rest on my own,"

"Perhaps," Sacha inclined his head. "My own mother was inclined to let me do as I pleased, as well, but my grandparents had other ideas. You could say they're a bit... old fashioned, I suppose. Well, in many ways, anyhow."

He watched her movement, stepping forward to trace his fingers along the chain of her necklace to the pendant there.

"You touch this often," remarked Sacha. "It must have special significance to you."

The man took a half-step closer, tugging her hips against his own. "You know... it has been a rather long time since I've enjoyed such pleasant company."