Fire Ch. 05

She was leaning over him before she knew what she was doing, her hands on either side of his shoulders. Her eyes suddenly transfixed by the line of his jaw. It was hard against her lips. She moved lower and found his skin was as cool as her tongue was warm.

She brushed her mouth over his throat. He just lay there unmoving, his hands still folded, but he made a very soft low sound as she pressed her lips harder against his neck. She smiled against his throat and ran her tongue over the corded tendon that ran down the side and felt it tense.

He groaned softly again. She kissed her way back up, finding the place where his pulse should be, and wrapped her lips around it, suddenly determined to make him moan louder, to make him want her. She wanted his control to fail him like hers always seemed to.

He made a stifled noise but didn't budge, so she was forced to get a little more aggressive and did what she knew would make her writhe. She bit down. Not hard enough to really hurt, but hard enough for him to feel it, to let him know what she wanted. He didn't make a sound.

She pulled away, frustrated, and looked into his face, fully prepared to let him know that he was not the only one feeling put out at the moment.

He opened his eyes and looked up at her and she couldn't breathe to speak. He sat up, and she pulled away, sliding off the bed to put space between them. She wasn't sure what to make of the look he was giving her. It was dark, concentrated, and all of its heart retching intensity was focused squarely on her. His smile was gone and his eyes blazed.

She took a shaky step away eying him uncertainly. There was more than just a predatory glint there, more than desire. He also stood, but his movements were slow and sensual, as if his body were unfolding before her rather than just standing, just walking.

She licked her lips and realized she was still moving backward, though only because she already felt the cold stone of the wall at her back. She struggled for coherent thought, and only came up with a question. What in the world had possessed her to want to tease a vampire...an assassin for that matter, into losing control? It was a fleeting thought, rapidly pushed out of her mind by the unhurried, deliberate movement of the creature advancing toward her.

She gasped as her mind flashed briefly and suddenly back to the cool wall, to thoughts of stone and fire. The icy stone behind her and the blistering fire before, that's how he'd found her. She was once again trapped between them. She had two options, freeze or burn.

She could see his face again, darkly through the flames, could see the flames flickering red and black in his eyes. It was the same face before her now. She shut her eyes against the searing heat.

He was black fire, and she was burning.

He paused when she closed her eyes. Her soft whimper made him hesitate. He could taste her fear in the back of his throat. He wanted to believe it wasn't for him...but he paused, halting his slow assault, one hand over her head against the wall. He leaned in, his mouth gently brushing her ear.

"I thought you weren't afraid of me?"

She turned her face to the sound of his voice, and met his eyes with hers. He felt his fangs elongate and made an incoherent animal sound at the sight of the swirling black depths he saw there. He was trapped in her gaze. It was like being sung to one's death, into an endless, but by no means empty, void. He was pulled into dark waters.

He said something to her, he wasn't quite sure what. Something meant to be reassuring, something about protecting her, or not hurting her. But all he could hear was the terrible need in his voice, and the soft panting sounds she was making. They were not entirely produced by fear. Her hand was clutching the material of his shirt, tugging him closer. Their eyes broke only when their bodies met. His mouth came down over hers and their hot sighs merged one into the other.

She moved fitfully against him, her hands pulling at his clothes, tugging his shirt away from his body only to slide beneath it and over the hard ridges of muscle that flexed and tensed under her exploring fingers.

Jairus pulled off his shirt, and buried his face against her neck as she wrapped her arms around his bare shoulders. He grasped her thigh, lifting and pressing himself into her. He pinned her to the wall with his body, inhaling her aroused sent as she ground back against him with a silent but insistent need.

He nipped lightly at her shoulder and was rewarded with a small hand at the back of his head trying to press his mouth harder against her. He resisted and mimicked her earlier performance, sucking and licking his way up her neck with aching leisure. Her fingers tightened to the point of pain and he felt his cock pulse in response, making him shift instinctively against her. He could feel the intoxicating heat of her body through her clothes, pulsing and radiating. He wanted more.

His hands found hers already at the laces of her dress, found her silken skin already materializing under his hands. They grasped and pulled both desperate to feel skin against skin. He leaned away just enough to watch her as she pushed her dress down over her rounded hips, letting it pool negligently at her feet. He absorbed ever inch of her with his eyes. Committing her to memory.

The moment she felt her dress slip off she reached for him next. She wanted to feel all of him, all of his cool hard body against her, inside her. Her fingers were pulled away from the laces of his breeches just as she was desperately close to her goal. She opened her mouth to protest and let out a squeaked cry as she felt herself pushed roughly back by the hips.

Her cry turned into a prolonged moan as she felt the sharp points of his teeth grazing over the curve of her breast and tantalizingly over one excruciatingly hard nipple. She tried to press against him, but his hands kept her pinned to the wall. She turned her gaze downward and watched with unrestrained desire as his mouth and tongue traced the lines of her body, newly defining the shape of her need, flicking and nipping her until she was desperately trying to drag him back against her.

He could feel her fingers tightening in his hair again but he had no intention of letting up just yet. He enjoyed the sensation of her squirming fitfully in his hands. He took his time, touching and tasting her, running his hands over the curve over her smooth, perfectly rounded breasts and hips, her soft arms and long firm legs, gripping her tightly whenever she tried to twist out of his hold.

He teased her with his tongue, with his teeth, and tortured himself with his own too slow path of hungry kisses over the long narrow curve of her stomach, until he found himself kneeling before her. He stopped to glance up at her and buckled a little under the weight of her heated gaze, momentarily forgetting what it was he was about.

She stared back at him with her darkened eyes and trembling mouth. After a very long, very intense moment she pressed her hips forward into his hands and sucked in her breath.

"Well if you're just going to sit there..." she whispered roughly. He smirked and grabbed the back on one thigh and slid it over one shoulder, simultaneously pressing her back into the wall and lifting her open to his gaze. Her eyes widened satisfyingly.

Thea grasped at his shoulder for balance as she felt herself half lifted from the floor. His hands slid up her body, holding her beneath the ribs keeping her upright and immobile.

The look he gave her had kept her momentarily breathless, but it made her pant rapidly as it turned lower. The first cool wet stroke made her shudder, the second groan. She lost count somewhere around six and could only shut her eyes and mewl softly as she clung to him, writhing as his tongue laved and pierced her slippery heat. At some point he latched his mouth against her and sucked hard at the small swollen knot that crested her slick folds, instantly turning her gentle yielding movements into desperate and demanding ones as he rapidly pushed her over the edge.

Her mouth gaped in a soundless cry and her hips bucked with involuntary spasms as what felt like shards of hot ice were plunged through her, shooting through her limbs and chest. She was sure her heart would break apart, and each pounding beat made her chest ache until she thought she could stand it no longer. She whimpered, unable to stop or even slow the devastating sensations, and pushed at him with her hands even as her hips pressed harder against his mouth melting into him in hot fluid waves.

Finally he released her, and she panted with relief, sagging a little into his grip. Her relief, however, was short lived. She froze as she felt the menacing points of his teeth pressing against the tender flesh of her center.

His tongue still moved against her, but every ounce of her was focused with painful immediacy on those sharp tips. Her legs weakened and shook and she tried desperately to keep her balance. He took pity on her, moving away, letting her leg fall. She released a breath she didn't know she was holding and with a disappointment that surprised her.

He climbed back up her frame, using the press of his body to hold her up, his mouth brushing lazily against hers. She tasted something strange and tangy on his lips and slid her tongue against them and between them as he opened for her. She realized with a heady shudder that the taste on his lips, on his tongue, was her own. She groaned as he pushed his tongue inside of her, filling her mouth with the taste of her own sex.

His mouth pushed harder against hers, and she responded in kind wrapping her arms tightly around him and crushing her lips to his until they were devouring each other with frightening voracity.

Jarius torn his mouth from Thea's delicious tongue and gasped for breath. Since when did he need to breathe? He wondered. He was half stunned, half amused, and completely, and painfully, aroused.

That thought was forever lost when he turned his eyes back to that curved red mouth and he was well on his way back for another soul devouring kiss when her voice, thick and sultry, cut through his delirious haze.

"Is it my turn?" she asked with a crooked, intoxicated smile. Her hand was on his chest, moving purposely downward. He shut his eyes as he felt his still imprisoned cock jump against her hand as she ran it firmly over the front of his breeches.

He reached down and helped her pull open the laces, groaning as her hand slid under the material before he was done. Her hand was slightly cooler than he was. "You're so hot." She breathed shakily and slid her hand around him tugging gently but eagerly.

Finally freed, he placed his hands on the wall behind her. She leaned back and he watched her face as she watched her own fingers slide over the length of him, caressing him both with her hands and her eyes. Her grip tightened, making his hips shift reflexively. He watched her mouth curve into a dangerous little smile and closed his eyes, tensing against her surprisingly adept hands as they massaged the length of him and fought to hold himself still.

He couldn't keep from moving against her hands, and he was convinced it was a bloody miracle that he hadn't thrown her down on the bed yet...or on the floor...or up against the wall...now there was a thought. Every muscle in his body went as rigid as stone at that last image and she let out what sounded like a sympathetically throaty whimper. He cursed.

She blinked up at him. He glared back down at her in response, a familiar sensation welling up in him, making his blood seethe, clouding his thoughts and vision.

"I think you're turn is over."

Thea frowned dazedly at him. He had seemed to be enjoying it. Before she could clear her glazed vision, or make a coherent thought she found herself lifted and crushed firmly and roughly against the wall. The hard jolt shocked her out of her stupor and she looked into his eyes for answers.

What she saw was one word, and it consumed her.

Mine.

It wasn't a question, or even a demand, but she answered it anyway.

"Yes." She panted, wrapping her arms around him.

"Yes." She whispered as he pulled her legs around his waist, gripping the backs of her thighs lifting her until the head of his cock slid beneath her and pressed into her soaked core.

She closed her eyes and savored the searing heat of him against her, and the half-painful stretch as he forced her open around him. She was panting again and dug her fingers into his back.

He paused briefly with a low growl that sent another rush of heat through her, making her sex clench around him. She gasped and he thrust, releasing his grip on her so that as she slipped down against him even he drove inside of her with a force that made her eyes water. He didn't stop there, but continued to drive into her, crushing her between the rough wall and the hard plane of his rigid body. Each fierce thrust sent a shockwave through her, reverberating in a volatile blend of pain and gut retching desire.

Jairus growled again as he felt her nails bite into his back, drawing red welts across his shoulders. He slammed into her, his mind empty of all thoughts but taking her, claiming her. He was mad with possessive need. Her nails, her teeth digging into his shoulder, her hips grinding insistently, demandingly, even as he fucked her with as much bruising force as he dared, all of it only served to make him that much wilder, that much more feral in his own demands on her body.

As if complicit with his need she let her head fall back exposing the length of her throat to his now half starved glare. He ripped into her without hesitation and felt a surge of dark exultation at the ecstatic scream that he tore from her even as her scorching blood flooded through him, filling him with white heat.

He couldn't tell how long he'd stood there, pinning her against the wall, draining her, but he felt her death grip weaken and her body melt into him as her cries turned back into sobbing whimpers.

He forced his mouth from her throat, quickly stemming the flow of blood, and pulled them away from the wall, gripping her tightly against him. He was still hard and embedded inside her and he gritted his teeth against the feel of her hips shifting in an erotic figure eight against his.

She found his mouth with hers and distracted him from his pain with a long wet kiss.

She pulled her head away and looked into his eyes, her body still wrapped around him, clinging tightly.

"I keep tasting myself on you, my blood, and my sex." She whispered dreamily against his lips. She smiled languidly, and he gritted his teeth again.

He had intended to move them to the bed, but her erotic words, and a quick glance told him the rug was closer. Much closer.

Thea wasn't sure when it had happened but she was suddenly on her back and his body was moving over hers, one iron arm wrapped around her holding her firmly with unnecessary possessiveness. She'd never released her own grip on him and only clung tighter as he moved inside her again, his stomach flexing against hers as he slid out of her completely.

She sighed in complacent satisfaction as he pressed her into the floor with his long, slow, returning stroke. She savored the feel of him, his heat as he moved lazily inside her. She squeezed and tensed herself around him, trying to feel every groove and ridge as he filled her. He growled softly into her shoulder and she tensed again, wanting to hear it again.

Slowly, silently, they moved against each other with long, tight, deliberate movements, each stroke building on the last, higher and longer, until both of them were left gasping and slick with sweat. He lifted his head gradually from her shoulder. They locked eyes and moved inside each other, swallowed whole by the other's dark heat.

Every muscle was tense, every nerve burning, every breath a desperate gasp.

She cried out softly, brokenly, and arced up, taut and shuddering with strained tension as the slick inner walls of her heat fluttered and tightened around him drawing out a second broken sound, though this time from another throat.

Instead of the blinding light of the last time, Thea was overcome by a black wave that swept over her, filling her and pushing the tension from her body with pulses of raw sensation.

Gradually the pulse dimmed and she gasped for breathe.

Her head swam dangerously and she shut her eyes, letting her head fall to the side, breathing deeply and unevenly. Slowly, very slowly, she listened to her heart slow its pound and her breathe return to normal. Even when it did she didn't move. She just lay there relishing the comforting presence that still hovered over her. Pressing against her.

She could feel his body radiating heat even as the sweat on her own turned cold sending a shiver through her.

She sighed imperceptibly when she felt the weight lift from her body, rifting from her, emptying her once again.

Thea opened her eyes and stared up at the ceiling. Her vision was still spinning gently. She lay stretched out and splayed indecorously across the rug, but couldn't quite bring herself to move. There was a comfortable heaviness in her limbs that made her arch and stretch, cat-like. She felt...good.

Her head fell heavily to the side again and she looked at the man laid out next to her and smiled. He was flush with blood and almost as soaked with sweat as she, though she didn't doubt that some of it was probably hers.

She raked her eyes over him with a covetous sort of satisfaction; over his bent knee and muscular thigh, his manhood still slick from her body, his lean stomach and perfect shoulders and chest. He was desire personified, she decided...or at least her desire, preferably only Her desire, she thought jealously.

She turned away again and sighed. What a frightening thing to have all one's pleasure tied up in a single person. And it was, she acknowledged. She'd come too far now to go back, just as she feared she might. If he tired of her now, after everything else, it would probably break her.

Death by pleasure...there were certainly worse ways to go. There were people right now coming up with ways.

"I want to talk to them."

"Sorry?" She smiled at the thickness in his voice and looked over at him again. He was looking back, frowning.

"I want to talk to them. Maybe I can convince them I don't give a damn about their wars and won't get involved. At the very least I want to see the faces of the people who have the gall to order my execution."

He didn't answer. He just stared at her blankly.

"What? I think they'd listen to reason. They wouldn't have to pay you then right?" He still stared. "Jairus?"

"Thea." She saw him swallow. "Please tell me that's not what you were thinking about the entire time."

It was her turn to blink and stare. What in the world was he...oh! Oh. He must have thought...she grinned.

And then she laughed. She hadn't meant to, it just came out. He frowned at her and she laughed again, but this time she couldn't stop. The more she thought about it the funnier it was. She sat up to try to calm herself, then looked back at his prone form and irritated expression and just laughed harder.

"I'm serious Thea." He said sitting up and giving her a leery glare, clearly unsure of what to make of her hysterics. She took a deep breath and turned on her knees to face him and explain herself, but the moment she opened her mouth she was overcome by another fit of laughter, this one putting her on her hands and knees with grasping her aching side.

When she finally came up for air there were tears in her eyes and he was looking at her like she was half crazed.