Pretty Hate Machine (Darth Naefas)

[Malica Drezyan]

As his golden eyes assessed her ample "features" and infamous hips, Malica's breath stopped short. She'd be lying if she didnt admit that it was exciting to have a Sith Knight look at her like that, especially one as powerful as Darth Naefas. This was the reason Malica relished missions where she played black widow. To have dominion over a man for a few hours for something as simple as her physical form...was sometimes even more exciting than hitting the sheets with them. Sometimes, of course. This thought caused Malica to smirk, but she brushed it away quickly. While Naefas enjoyed the view of her body, Malica snuck a glance of the muscles of his tattooed arm and tried not to look too satisfied when thier eyes met again.

He stepped closer, activating her fight or flight instincts and snapping Malica back into reality. She certainly would have enjoyed finding out if his skills of seduction matched her own, but there was too much to be desired in means of respect. And Malica would teach this arrogant Sith some respect, presently.

"You underestimate my skills, my Lord." Malica purred, looking up at him as she caressed that bare part of his arm. "I'm not a courtesan, I'm a bounty hunter." With that, she released the needle of carsumum that had been meant for Jonas Narr from a pocket in the wrist of her glove and plunged it into Darth Naefas' shoulder.

[member="Darth Naefas"]

 

[Tormax Tryte]

When they both made eye contact Darth Naefas gave her a look that was saying, "relax." And he could only wonder to the thoughts that went through his mind, and then he remembered the teachings of a Sith Lord, a Master of the mind and with the Force he delved into her mind through the Force as far as he dared.

At first he felt a sense of want, maybe a little competition and then when he sensed the danger, his right hand was already moving upwards across his body to create a force barrier as the needle came to him.

It would have just broken as he moved his hand towards it, and he grabbed the wrist that would have plunged it into his shoulder. He made his attempts at bending her wrist in a painful manner so she would soon be falling onto her knees in front of him.

Her own wrist still in his grip.

[member="Malica Drezyan"]

 

[Malica Drezyan]

"Fracking Force-users," Malica grunted as her attack was foiled. His grip on her wrist was like iron. She yelped as the pressure on the bone increased, afraid that it would shatter. The vial of carsumum, not Malica's knees, hit the floor, leaving a puddle of the deadly poison and glass shards at their feet. She would not bow before him, even if it meant a broken wrist.

"Let go," Malica demanded, clenching her teeth in pain. Her free hand traveled toward the hilt of her blaster pistol.

[member="Darth Naefas"]

 

[Tormax Tryte]

His grip on her wrist slackened just enough so that he could gain enough leverage with his other hand upon her forearm - to prevent her from drawing her blaster pistol, and he smashed her off of the wall.

If she wanted to kill him, she would have to try harder. He was Sith, he wouldn't die by the likes of poison.

Naefas's first grip upon her dragged along the length of her body, as he wrapped his powerful right hand around her throat and pulled her face to his so that their lips met.

[member="Malica Drezyan"]

 

[Malica Drezyan]

As her back smashed against the wall, Malica grunted. It was clear that even with her recent military training with Omega Pyre that he surpassed her in strength. Fight was ruled out. The hand reaching for the blaster slackened at her side. Flight, however...

Malica looked to down the hallway, praying that the shuttle was still docked. If she could just get him to loosen his grip for a second -

Before she could calculate an escape route, that same grip touched her shamelessly and her thoughts were intturrupted by the feel of his lips against hers. Malica held on for a moment too long, then broke away. She stared him dead in the eyes, attempting to penetrate this cloak of a man, trying to discover something tangible that she could manipulate.

"What do you want from me?" she growled, a cornered lioness, indignantly accepting defeat.

 

[Tormax Tryte]

"What do I want?" He asked when he only pulled her back to him and kissed her again. He knew she wanted it, she had kissed him for a moment too long, a moment that allowed him to understand that she wanted him. Perhaps as much as he wanted her.

Or more.

The hand that wasn't around her throat moved down the length of her body and lingered momentarily before it began to unzip her skin-tight black clothing.

She wouldn't need it, he was certain.

"You know what I want." He whispered while he nipped at her neck, intending to get a sound from her.

[member="Malica Drezyan"]