********
"I need to be inside you... Please, Joan." Randy pleaded. He kissed
her, then
trailed his lips down her throat, hovering over her scar. "Let me have
you
again."
Joan shuddered at his words, and at the feel of the flat of his tongue
as it
swiped wetly along her neck. Unconsciously, instinctively, her head
fell back,
giving him better access to her throat, to the silken length of skin
marred
only by the bite mark. Randy tangled his hand in her golden hair,
supporting
her head as he kissed and licked at her scar. "Be mine, " he
whispered against
her skin.
"Yours." Joan breathed.
Randy pulled her in for a deep hard kiss while his adoring hands made
their way
over all of her body within his reach. He paused at her breasts, palming
the
soft mounds, running his thumbs over the hardened nipples. Then,
suddenly, his
hands were under her armpits, lifting her to stand alone.
Joan whimpered, a confused expression on her face as stepped back towards
him,
trying to sink back onto his lap. Randy held her at arms length,
hands on her
hips. He held her gaze, then looked past her to the book-strewn
table. He
cocked his head to the side, willing her to understand his wordless
entreaty.
He let a mischievous smile steal across his face as he pushed with
one hand,
pulled with the other, turning her to face away from him. She
stood still for
a moment, and then looked back at him over her shoulder. She
smiled.
Randy returned her smile as he settled her into his lap. He could
easily hear
Joan's accelerated heartbeat. Pressing his chest to her back,
he could feel
the thudding as if it were his own heart. In truth, he thought,
her heart beat
for both of them; pumping blood that belonged to, and would sustain
them both
as Mates.
Randy closed his eyes as the sensation washed over him. Even as
it was
happening, Randy could not believe this was his life- er, unlife.
From the
beginning, as he and the others had sought to discover the extent of
their lost
memories, untangle the complex web of relationships among the members
of The
Band, Randy had been drawn to Joan. Then, with his discovery
of her scar and
their reactions to the apparent meaning- And now, Joan would be his.
Again.
He nuzzled the back of her neck as he ran his palms down, then back
up her
thighs, pressing into her resilient flesh. One hand returned
to her hip,
fingers tucking into the pocket of her slacks. There, blunt nails
scratched
against her belly through the thin fabric, making her squirm atop him.
The
other hand found the hem of her blouse and slid beneath.
Joan drew in a sharp breath as cool fingers danced across her midriff.
Randy
nipped gently at the skin of Joan's nape as he explored the satin skin
of her
middle in broad strokes, fingertips slipping under the waistband of
her slacks
one moment, brushing the underside of her breast next. He marveled
at the feel
of her; the skin like warm, heavy satin, draped gently over the surprising
fullness of her breasts, drawn tightly over the muscle and bone of
her middle.
His fingertips fluttered against the edge of her cropped camisole then,
gripping the hem, he began a slow pull. The silky fabric stretched,
the lace
edging scraping slowly across her hardened nipples. Joan moaned
as Randy used
her cami to deliciously abrade her skin. His other hand emerged
from her
pocket to slip beneath the thin cotton and cup the swell of one breast
and then
the other, pressing the sensitive tips against the textured fabric.
Joan's hands moved restlessly; one slipping up and down Randy's arm
to where it
caressed her breasts, the other kneading his hip and flank beneath
her. She
began to squirm against him, whimpering her need as he continued his
attentions
to her breasts.
"Shhhh, my love." He whispered. Her needy little movements atop
him made him
ache with want, quiver with need. But he was unwilling to rush this;
it was too
important. One hand fell from her breast to the damp fabric between
her
thighs. He traced the seam of her slacks tentatively, and then,
when she
keened "Pleeeeeaaaaasse" he applied pressure in firm circular strokes.
She
responded by pulsing her lower body strongly into his hand.
Her uninhibited response to him was, by turns, a joy and a revelation.
There
continued to be a part of Randy that was surprised at how strongly
Joan reacted
to his touch. Determinedly shaking off the vague sense of being
in unfamiliar
territory, Randy concentrated on pleasing Joan. Continuing his massage
of her
mons, he bent again to her nape, scraping the delicate skin with his
elongated
incisors, drawing delicate red-line patterns against the pale flesh,
then
soothing his decorations with his cool tongue.
Randy could feel Joan's body vibrate with need; the scent of her arousal
permeated the air around them. "Now, please, " Joan pleaded.
She moved her
hands to cover his, drew them together, pressing them harder against
her
breasts, then dragging them down and across her middle. Randy
flexed his
fingers as she moved their joined hands up her ribs and back to her
breasts.
"Now."
"Yes. Now" Randy said.
He pulled their hands away from her breasts, reaching towards the table
in
front of them. He stood slowly, leaning forward, extending their
arms across
the book-laden surface until Joan was pressed to the table, face down,
held
there by Randy's long, cool body. The heat of her body scorched
him from palms
to knees as he lay over her. He placed an openmouthed kiss on
her scar before
slowly drawing away to stand over her. A cool hand pressed briefly
to the
small of her back, so Joan remained there, looking to Randy expectantly.
Her golden hair glowing softly in the low light of the shop, her slender
back
arched slightly over the books beneath her, the rounded curves of her
buttocks
poised at the edge of the table; Randy caught an unneeded breath at
the sight.
Joan was a priceless gift to him, a sumptuous banquet awaiting his
attention.
She was his. Randy didn't dare try to analyze the complexity of the
satisfaction that brought him. Bright and dark, generous and
selfish; their
joining, he realized, was somehow both conquest and surrender.
Joan's soft sound of inquiry brought Randy back from his contemplation
of her.
He reached around her middle, fingers slipping between her belly and
the edge
of the table to find the tab of her zipper. He placed soft kisses
to the
exposed skin between waistband and blouse as he eased her slacks, and
the
panties beneath, down to her knees. His palms stroked the silky skin
of her
behind, then traced the line that separated cheek and thigh.
He could feel the
heat pouring off of her in thick, heady waves. And, as he slipped
a hand
between her thighs, urging her to widen her stance, he felt the evidence
of her
desire dampen his fingers. At her plaintive whimper, he removed
his hand and
took just a moment to savor the tableau in front of him.
Joan lay upon the table, head resting on a forearm; with closed eyes,
flushed
cheeks, and lips parted to accommodate the panting breaths she was
reduced to
taking. She shifted her weight restlessly, arching almost imperceptibly
against the unyielding table. The sight of her helpless arousal had
Randy
scrabbling at his own belt, wrenching the zipper down and dropping
his own
trousers in near panic.
Finally freeing himself from the constraint of his clothing, Randy stepped
up
to Joan, pressing himself against her. The feel of her hot skin
against his
cold hardness elicited a feral growl from Randy that startled them
both.
Recovering quickly from the surprise, and appearing even more aroused
for it,
Joan twisted halfway around and clasped a hand over Randy's buttock,
keeping
him fitted to her when he would have backed away.
"Yes." She stated emphatically, eyes locked on his. Again, she
managed to
astound Randy, in only the nicest way mind you, with her full acceptance
of his
demonic aspect. Her hand clenched, bruising him, as she waited
for him to
resume.
Reaching behind, he entwined their fingers and brought their joined
hands
forward, then placed her palm on the table, ensuring she could support
the
weight of her upper body. He placed his hand next to hers, draping
himself
along her shoulder and back. Then, with his other arm under her hips,
he drew
her onto her tiptoes and pushed forward, sheathing himself slowly in
her
burning core.
They sighed in unison as he filled her, completing them both in one
slow,
deliberate thrust. He could feel her internal muscles flutter
around him at
the invasion. She let out a low, keening wail that was clearly
not of pain.
Against his cool hardness she was so wet, but so tight. He could
feel each
striation inside her caress him as he pushed in, until he was fully
seated in
her, until he felt the cool flesh of his abdomen warming from contact
her heat.
His face buried in the crook of her neck, panting though he did not
need to
breathe, Randy could not imagine anything more intimate that what he
was
currently feeling. Yet he knew there was more. And he longed
to share it with
Joan. Joan- the love of his unlife, the sun-kissed, super-powered
savior of
this small city where the Noble Vampire and his Vampire Hunter mate
made
earthshaking love, and vows of forever.
"Ready?" he asked.
"Mmmm" she murmured in assent. She tilted her head back, eyes
closed, giving
him access. Her head snapped upright again as she felt him shift
her
backwards- he was-
Sitting down.
"Ahhhhhhrrrrahh!" Joan's wail rang off the walls of the magic
shop as Randy
sank back into the chair, spreading his legs slightly. Budding
frustration
soon gave way to building ecstasy as their new position pressed Randy
even
deeper inside Joan's warm body.
Joan's fingers clenched on the edge of the table as Randy pulsed into
her in
slow, small movements. Randy slipped both hands under Joan's
blouse and
camisole, caressing her breasts. With a whimper, Joan raised
her arms above
her head, urging Randy to divest her of the impeding fabric
Free of her clothing, Joan's body was even more beautiful; lean, golden,
lightly muscled and glowing with the exertion of their lovemaking.
He licked the perspiration gathering in the hollow of her collarbone,
then
paused to listen to the rush of blood just beneath that satin skin.
It called
to him, promising satiation of his deepest desires.
Determined to ignore the siren song of her blood just a little while
longer, he
slipped one hand down to where their bodies were joined, finding and
rubbing
her most sensitive spot. He continued to flex his hips, pressing into
her
slowly, deeply. Gently at first, then with more pressure from without
and
within, he brought her to the very edge of climax
As her mouth dropped open in a soundless moan, Randy grasped her chin
with his
other hand, turning his head to grind his mouth down on hers.
He felt both his
lip and hers part against his fangs.
The rich, coppery taste of her blood, so much more vibrant than his
own, filled
his senses. He could feel her warm little tongue worrying the
nick in his own
lip, drinking him in, even as he lapped the precious elixir from her
mouth.
Joan broke the kiss, desperate for oxygen. She panted heavily,
her naked
breasts heaving as she drew breath. "Pleaaasssse" she whimpered
against his
lips. Her voice, her peaked nipples, the contractions inside her, all
told she
was poised on the razor's edge of desire. Pleasure that was almost
pain, would
be pain soon, if not consummated. "Bite. Me."
A shock of pleasure ran through Randy at her words. He moved his
hand from her
chin to her temple, tilting her head back and to the side. She
sighed as she
willingly bared her throat to him. He could see the pulse beneath
the mark
there, throbbing in time with his hardness within her.
"Come for me, my
love." He whispered, fangs at her neck. "My mate."
Joan stiffened on Randy's lap, burning pain and searing pleasure racing
through
her body as his fangs slipped into her neck. Randy could feel her inner
muscles
milking him rhythmically, even as his fangs did the same to her.
At her scream
of completion, his orgasm tore through him. He fought hard not to clamp
his
fangs down on her as wave after wave of pleasure pulsed through his
body.
Randy felt Joan shudder and then begin to grow limp against him. Easing
his
fangs from her neck, Randy wrapped his arms around her middle, holding
her
close.
"Joan?" he whispered, "Are you-?"
"Mmmm" she murmured sleepily, her head resting back on his shoulder.
Joan's hand drifted up to stroke Randy's face as he regained his human
visage.
Her fingers caressed his cheek, then fluttered down to where he had
bitten her.
"Yours." Joan sighed, almost asleep. Randy licked at the small
trickle of
blood still coming from the two small wounds adorning her scar and
smiled. And
wondered where on the table to carve their initials.
-end-