Dark Desires

Candlelight slowly ebbed into a dark room giving it a soft amber glow, flowing into and becoming one with the moon’s silvery light. Slowly, golden eyes shifted back into consciousness, opening with hesitation. Altair’s vision was blurry at first, but eventually he was able to make out shapes as his eyes adjusted to the dim light.

He felt a pang from his arms, which were above his head and tied to a hook that was attached to some sort of machine. Altair quickly turned to look up and in the process, gave himself mild nausea. He saw that both his arms were tied tightly with rope, as if to make sure that he could not open his hidden blade. He made a mental note that the ropes were tight enough to cause him to bleed, evidence of which soaked through his white sleeves. He looked below himself in order to understand the extent of his helplessness. He noted that his legs were tied to two small posts on either side of him, making him involuntary keep them spread at a forty-five degree angle.

Altair quickly looked from side to side and realized that, of all places, he was in someone’s bedroom. He scowled at his misfortune. How could I have been so careless? To step on the wrong ledge, to fall off, to ignore—

“It seems that work got you all tied up,” a mocking voice cut off Altair’s thoughts. Altair turned to look in front of him, making out a man in the shadows, sitting on a chair, his right leg was casually resting over his left and his hands were together at the fingertips.

“Robert de Sable!” Altair sneered as Robert’s devilish grin widened.

“Indeed.”

“What have you done with me?”

“Why, tied you up of course,” Robert answered, not moving, not twitching, merely observing his prey.

“Torturing me will not get you any information. Kill me and be done with it!” Altair yelled.

“What makes you think I want information from you?” Robert sneered.

“What do you aim to do with me, then?” Altair narrowed his eyes.

“I aim to dominate the great Altair, allegedly the greatest assassin of them all,” Robert answered as he slowly stood up from the shadows. Altair’s eyes held an air of confusion. Then, a glimmer of understanding went through them and perhaps – a tint of fear?

“You get the picture, I presume?” Robert asked, knowing the answer but still reveling in the small scent of fear he received from the assassin.

“I must say, I’m impressed. If I were not as skilled in perception as I am, then I would believe that you held no fear. Yet, the small flashes of fear in your eyes betray you, ibn La-Ahad.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Altair replied through clenched teeth.

Robert continued his advance on Altair, stopping just before him. He took a dagger from somewhere within his robe and placed it a little below Altair’s right shoulder. He stabbed Altair in his shoulder, evoking a small hiss of pain from the great assassin. Robert made the hole in Altair’s tunic a little bigger, then he used both hands to rip open Altair’s tunic from his right shoulder down towards his left hip, tearing away fabric strips as he went along, discarding them on the floor.

Altair made no movement.

“Once again, impressive! If only my men could be this stoic!” Robert taunted Altair as he found his knife again. He brushed it softly against Altair’s newly exposed tan skin, letting Altair feel the sharpness of the blade, but not its bite. Altair focused on breathing evenly and quietly, but found this menial task extremely difficult as he drifted between emotions of hate, fear and longing.

Robert’s knife stopped just below Altair’s left nipple and made a large gash, the length of a dagger, right below it. The only indication that Robert’s prey was even alive was the low hiss of pain Altair gave out every time he was cut. With the light of the devil in his eyes and a smirk upon his face, Robert circled his left arm around Altair’s hip and brought Altair’s entire body closer to him. He slowly brought his head towards Altair’s newly formed chest gash and began to languidly lick away the blood, once in a while softly brushing over Altair’s caramel-tinted nipple in the process.

Altair twitched slightly, fighting his feeling of need.

“Ah, what was that I felt? Could the assassin be enjoying my ministrations against his will?” Robert attempted to provoke Altair. Altair still kept silent, every moment growing harder and harder for him to fight against the desires of his body, slowly giving into those of his body.

Robert continued his teasingly slow and deliberate torture of Altair’s left nipple as his right hand began to remove Altair’s sash, a proud trophy for assassins. After letting the sash fall to the floor in an unceremonious heap, Robert’s right hand continued to find its way into Altair’s pants. Altair flinched again and his eyes widened quickly for a split second before returning to their previous size. His reactions did not go unnoticed by Robert who bypassed taunting and instead began focusing on his new objective – making the assassin cry out.

Robert’s hand wrapped around Altair’s shaft and slowly began stroking it. Against his will, Altair’s member began to grow, showcasing his carnal need for release. Between all his missions and assassinating all his targets to redeem himself, Altair couldn’t remember the last time he had fulfilled his fleshly desires. A low semblance of a moan managed to escape Altair’s lips as his eyes closed for the briefest of seconds. Robert’s smirk widened as he could feel himself reacting to Altair’s low moan, his own member growing inside his pants.

Moving away from Altair’s shaft, Robert’s hand drifted towards Altair’s entrance and began to massage it slowly. A shocked gasp escaped Altair’s lips as his eyes widened at the sudden change of tactics.

“What was that, assassin?” Robert breathed in Altair’s ear, causing small shivers to travel down the assassin’s spine of what was yet to come. The assassin’s only response was his heavier breathing. Robert placed his lips on Altair’s ear and began to lick his way to Altair’s neck, coming back up to flick his tongue against Altair’s ear. He then began to leisurely suck at the juncture between Altair’s neck and shoulder earning another low moan from the assassin.

“S-stop this!” Altair breathed.

“But why? You’re clearly enjoying this” Robert innocently replied.

“That’s not true—”

“Your body betrays you, assassin,” Robert stated. “Why stop when you clearly like it?” he sternly countered as his right hand once again moved to encircle Altair’s shaft. Altair tightly closed his eyes in an attempt to control his desire and willing his shaft to go down. His body no longer responded to desires of his mind and instead, responded to the ministrations of his enemy. He let out a cry as he felt Robert’s teeth sink into his flesh.

“I’m going to have you, assassin. You can either comply or suffer,” Robert erratic breathing gave away his imminent desire, no longer wishing to be repressed. Robert moved away from Altair to a lever that Altair had not noticed earlier. Robert pulled the lever down, which made the hook, which hung above and held Altair’s arms in its ropey grasp, move down. Altair’s body hit the ground in a rough thud. He now lay flat against the ground, on one end, his arms held tightly by the rope and the hook, and on the other, his legs still somehow connected to the two posts.

Robert moved towards Altair and positioned his body so that he sat on Altair’s waist, his legs on either side of Altair and his hands on both sides of Altair’s face. Altair looked up at Robert with fear in his eyes, mixed with a slight tinge of desire. Robert lips curved into a smile. He slowly moved his face so that it was mere inches away from Altair’s.

“Don’t fear, assassin, enjoy,” were Robert last words before his tongue reached out and flicked against Altair’s lips, feeling Altair’s warm breath. His tongue kept on licking around Altair’s lips, seeking entrance. Seeing the stubbornness of Altair, Robert found a way and forced his tongue into the assassin’s warm cavern. Altair’s eyes widened as his lips were crudely parted.

Robert’s right hand had once again found Altair’s, now throbbing, member and began to pump it slowly. Altair moaned against Robert as his eyes closed against his will. Robert quickly opened his eyes briefly to observe the assassin’s face before closing them and thrusting his tongue deeper into the kiss.

Slowly giving up his resolve, Altair began to respond to Robert’s kiss, his tongue battling the other’s for dominance, even in his prone state.

“That’s better,” Robert breathed as he broke the kiss. He inserted his index finger into Altair’s mouth.

“Suck” he commanded as Altair involuntarily began to do so. Robert then moved his finger to once again massage the other’s entrance, inserting it in the virginal hole. Altair gasped. Robert smirked.

“Tell me assassin, how long has it been since you felt the warmth of another?” Altair offered no response. Robert inserted a second finger, earning another involuntary grunt from Altair. Robert began to scissor his fingers, stretching the hole before inserting a third, earning a slight buck from Altair. Robert removed his fingers and rubbed them on the tip of Altair’s shaft, allowing Altair’s precum to cover his fingers before reinserting them into Altair. Altair’s body slowly moved against Robert’s in a bucking motion. Unable to hold his desire, Robert removed his fingers and undid the clasp of his pants, withdrawing his own member, hard with need.

Altair’s eyes moved to Robert’s pants and widened at the sight before moving back towards Robert’s face, fear now clearly evident in Altair’s eyes.

“Where did you expect this to go?” Robert asked unnecessarily as he moved his shaft to position it against Altair’s entrance. He inserted the tip into Altair, earning a gasp.

“Please—no!” Altair begged, his voice a slight octave higher than usual. In response, Robert continued to slowly push his shaft inside Altair, whose body curled upwards towards Robert. Unable to hold himself back any longer, Robert pushed himself all the way inside Altair.

“Ah!” Altair exclaimed as his eyes tightly closed against the sudden rough intrusion. Robert’s lips descended onto Altair’s once more, gaining quick entrance and roughly abusing Altair’s mouth before pulling back, creating a little trail of saliva between their lips.

Robert’s devilish eyes took on a predatory glint as he gazed upon Altair’s face, now flushed a light crimson. Robert’s hands roughly grabbed the assassin’s hips as he pulled out of Altair and then crudely thrust back inside the assassin. Altair could feel small trickles of blood flow from his entrance, providing lubrication to aid Robert’s thrusts. Robert’s grip on Altair’s hips tightened as his thrusts became harder, hitting Altair’s prostrate in the process. Altair let out one cry before Robert lips descended on his own.

They began to move as one. Robert’s thrusts soon became more erratic as he felt his end draw nearer. Robert stopped his rough kiss with Altair to once again sink his teeth into Altair’s neck as his fingers began to dig into Altair’s hips. Altair’s gasps and moans of ecstasy became music to Robert’s ears, more beautiful than a chorus of angels. Robert’s left hand moved to hold himself steady against Altair’s right shoulder, digging his fingers into it, as his right encircled Altair’s shaft, moving in the same rough pattern as his thrusts. Altair’s moans and gasp turned into little whines as he felt his own release close.

With one final thrust, Robert hit Altair’s prostrate dead on and felt his seed spill inside Altair, his eyes rolling back in the feeling. Soon after, Altair felt his own member spilling with his own torrent of desire before Robert collapsed on top of him, his full weight slightly crushing Altair in the process.

For a few minutes, nothing could be heard except both of their ragged breathing. Robert moved his head slowly to gingerly kiss Altair. Shocked at the tenderness, Altair hesitated before slowly reciprocating the kiss. Robert broke the kiss and gently removed himself from Altair. After the waves of pleasure left Altair, he began to feel the harsh burns of the rope dig into the skin of his arms and the excruciating pain caused by the tear Robert’s shaft made down below.

For a while, Robert just stared at the assassin, taking in his appearance. His flushed face, erratic breathing and the small winces of pain flickering across his face.

“Vous êtes vraiment belle, assassin,” Robert finally spoke. (1)

Unable to comprehend what Robert had just said and unable to force his limbs to move, Altair merely laid there, his panting getting less and less audible. Robert moved away from Altair, placing his member once again within the confines of his pants. He went to retrieve his knife, which had been discarded earlier, and began to cut through all the ropes holding Altair in place.

Searching around Altair, Robert found the sash he had torn off earlier and began to delicately tie it once again around Altair’s robes. He then picked up the assassin with ease and threw him over his shoulder and began walking out of the room. Tired from the activity, Altair slipped into unconsciousness, allowing Robert to continue carrying him to wherever his final destination would be.

Waking from what seemed like hours; Altair finally opened his eyes and found he was staring at the night sky. He slowly sat up and looked around, seeing Robert sitting across from him — staring at him. Altair looked around and noticed that he was atop some rooftop in Jerusalem.

“I know that you will kill me one day, assassin,” Robert finally spoke. “I welcome the challenge and I consider it an honor if my life should end by your hands.” Altair looked back at Robert in shock. His greatest enemy, after dominating him for what seemed like hours, had just admitted his combative superiority. Did he hear that right? Robert slowly stood up and smoothed away the wrinkles from his tunic. Altair attempted to stand up but a wave of dizziness hit him and he collapse back onto the roof. Robert moved and roughly dragged Altair back onto his feet, crushing Altair’s lips to his own. Altair reciprocated this kiss, this time, with no hesitation.

“Til we meet again, Altair ibn La-Ahad,” were Robert final words before he jumped off the rooftop. Altair stood on the rooftop for some time, recollecting his thoughts and thinking of what had just transpired. An eagle’s cry knocked Altair out of his musings, as he made his way back to the bureau, almost on instinct.

As he stood at the edge of the bureau’s entrance, his legs suddenly collapsed in fatigue beneath him, causing him to fall into the bureau. Luckily, the numerous amount of pillows softened his fall as he landed on the ground in a rough thud.

Hearing the large bump, Malik paused in his writing. Cautiously, he set his quill pen down before grabbing his sword, which was hanging nearby, and followed the sound to the main room of the bureau.

Upon seeing Altair lying prone on the floor, Malik dropped his sword and rushed to the side of his fellow assassin. As he stood above him, Malik took in Altair’s appearance. There was blood all over the assassin, most of it dried. Altair had rolled onto his back, giving Malik a good view of the numerous rips and tears of Altair’s tunic as well as the many gashes across Altair’s chest.

“Altair!? What has happened to you!?” Malik exclaimed in alarm and concern, forgetting for a moment his inner hatred of Altair for the loss of his brother and arm.

“I failed, Malik,” were Altair’s last words before he felt blackness take over him.

~*~

Author’s Note: If this chapter made anyone horny, then I have done my job as an author.

So should I made a third chapter or a sequel?

Should I add a little Altair and Malik?

Please let me know what you think!

(1): French for, “You truly are beautiful, assassin.”