Fire Ch. 12

She didn't have to lunge again as he was already bearing down on her, pressing her back against the bed and capturing her wrists to keep her from striking at him.

She struggled until she realized the futility of it and went limp instead, a trick she'd used once before with some success. He was not so easy to fool, and never completely released her hands, but the moment he relaxed his grip to adjust it, she lunged in again. She had no interest in escaping his grip as he expected, and this time pressed her body up against him, crushing her mouth to his throat and groaning in deep satisfaction as her teeth found their mark. She tasted his blood as it washed over her tongue, the flavor and power of it inundating her senses and the heady euphoria of the sensation weakened her attack until her struggle became an insistent writhe.

She felt his growl, and elated at the animal fury she heard in it...but she also heard something else mixed in with the sound, something like a moan. The hand that came up to grip the back of her head, tightening in her hair, didn't pull her away quite as quickly as she expected it to, but lingered and held her where she was.

After an eternal, delicious moment he did eventually end it. Her head was wrenched back with a force that left her breathless, not giving her time to pull her fangs from him properly, leaving his throat wounded and bloodied. The sight only made her fight harder to resist his control. She managed to get close enough to run her tongue over the base of his throat and catch a single rivulet of blood before he reigned her in, this time with a vicious strength she had no way of resisting as he pinned her to the bed by the throat, his other hand still crushing her wrists in its iron grip.

She gasped in pain, and also in surprise. Not surprise at the maneuver, but at the hot shard of ...something, that the pain sent hurtling through the core of her where it coalesced into a tight, hot eddy of need and desire.

There was dangerous fire in his eyes, and fury. Fury like she'd seen when she'd been caught in the storm. Her body responded to the sight, becoming a dark pool, reflecting the flames and throbbing in time with the pulsing embers. She remembered the way he'd gripped her in his fury, hurting her...and suddenly, inexplicably...she wanted that back, wanted more.

With a growl of her own she wrapped her legs around him, twisting herself and turning them over. Another familiar trick. Like the man in the alley, she remembered...the one she'd killed. The thought made her falter and she struggled to force that thought back into the retreating depths of her mind.

She was astride him now, but his hand was wrapped in her hair again, tightened as she went for his throat again in an attempt to sink back into that all consuming flame. This time, however. he twisted her head away with his fist and buried his own fangs in her neck in retribution.

His bite was rougher than normal and accented with a pain he normally kept her from feeling. He made no attempt to be gentle and dug deeply. It sent another white hot shard through her body and it burnt away everything else in its path. She twisted in his arms, opening the wound and keeping it from healing as it would likely do the moment he pulled away. Instead of fighting him she gleefully pressed her throat against his mouth, encouraging him to pull deeper, desperate to feel more of the blinding fire and have it obliterate her.

He tore away from her before it could and she whimpered in frustration. What's more, his hand released her hair and he pushed her away from him on the bed as he slid off of it, staggering stiffly away from it with labored breath and clenching hands.

Jairus gazed down at her sprawled form, his chest continuing to heave with the exertion of his restraint. There was something fierce and dangerous kept buried deep within, something which had surfaced and taken over when he'd first come after her, and which had seethed anxiously and expectantly since the night he turned her, waiting...wanting. That hungry thing was rearing again now, lashing away at his control, and made more insistent by the sight of this equally fierce creature glaring up at him from the bed. Her face was dark, her fangs bared over swollen, parted lips, and there was a familiar glint of fire in her eyes, a fire the hunger knew intimately. He didn't just know it...he felt it. Not just his own hunger...he...he felt hers. It radiated off of her in waves only to snake around him like a black mist.

He inhaled sharply at the realization, frozen in rapt fascination as his mind instinctively reached for hers, only to be caught in wave after wave of whirling, confused emotion.

She never moved, just knelt there panting, but she felt furious. Furious, but hesitant...watchful and wanting. But wanting what? He swallowed hard, pulling himself out of the confused eddy and focused on her, on her eyes. Jairus experienced another surge of red hunger and desire rage through him, sure that this time it wasn't just his own. He dug deeper, letting himself be dragged into the whirlpool. Beneath the hunger was anger, yes...but beneath that, pulsing needfully at the center of it...was pain, terrible twisting, searing pain.

It was a pain that needed, wanted....

It called to him and begged him...but for what? She glared at him, her desire blackened eyes taunting and daring him. He relaxed his stance and took an experimental step forward, watching her reaction. She rose up on her knees and tilted her head defiantly, her elongated fangs grazing her bottom lip as her mouth parted, inhaling softly like a cat scenting prey. He swallowed his own responsive growl but couldn't stop the pulsing ache of undiluted lust she elicited in him. He resisted the urge to give into it, to sink himself into that wet heat, but the strain of his control sent a tremor up his spine forcing him to clench his fists that much tighter to keep his hands from shaking.

Her hips shifted and her eyes followed him as he approached, circling slowly. She remained watchful, but made no attempt to lunge at him until he was nearly on top of her. And even then, it was only after he'd stood hovering over her while she'd waited impatiently for him to make his move.

He caught her by the throat and pinned her easily to the bed just as he had before, only this time watching her intently for her response. She writhed and gripped his wrist, but made no real attempt to escape him, not even when his grip began to tighten. He watched with hungry, and faintly curious eyes as she pressed herself that much harder into his grip. Had she been human still, the move might have killed her, or come very close. Now it merely made her arch off the bed, her eyes glazing with a potent mixture of fury and lust, a mixture that reached into the core of him and demanded an immediate answer. There was an answer, unequivocally...but there was also recognition.

How many times in his youth had he thrown himself into battle, let himself drown in lust or pain, in order to push a deeper, more potent anguish from his mind, from his very being— to wipe it clean.

Some part of him understood what was happening, and recognized what she was begging him to do as she signaled him with her writhing body. He understood what the searing pain was demanding now. It desired a different sort of pain, so that it might be soothed and, for a moment, forgotten.

However, as he continued to kneel over her and watch her twist in his grip, his realization was slowly subsumed beneath the furious, voracious thing which had already recognized a hunger and darkness to match its own and now was only waiting to be released, with or without his permission.

She made that decision for him. "Is this the best you can do?" She hissed, her nails digging into his arm as she attempted to release herself from his grip. It was permission enough, and he took it with a speed and relish which might have been disturbing if it hadn't already gripped him so completely.

Before he could change his mind, he seized the front of her dress with his free hand, ripping the delicate bodice open and exposing the thin fabric of her shift beneath. He smirked at the fine, lace-lined bit of nothing which had come to replace the coarse, homespun cotton and wool she normally wore.

She practically hissed at him, her eyes bright with fury. Yet, he couldn't help but notice that her hands had released his wrist and now gripped the quilt beneath her instead. He tugged again, lengthening the rent down past her waist, admiring the ruined dress with satisfaction. It was a fine enough frock, but one that Othwyn had given her. It pleased him to remove it from her. He did the same to the shift, making much shorter work of it and baring her silken skin to his eager gaze. He drank her in with his eyes, lingering on her half covered hips before tracing the long, smooth expanse of her stomach and waist, letting his hand follow. It had been too long.

She gasped as his hand climbed to tease the underside of one full, heaving breast. Her skin prickled beneath his touch, the dusky tips tightening in immediate reply. She twisted as if to get away, but the movement only served to press her soft body that much more firmly into his teasing hands. A graveling sound of appreciation rumbled in his chest and his groin tightened as that supple flesh yield to his own implacable grip.

It had been far, far too long.

She glared and growled in her throat, but her hands remained knotted in the bed clothes and her diamond hard nipple pressed into his palm as she arched into his groping hand, spurring him onward.

He slid a knee between hers, pinning her more firmly with her own skirts and leaned in over her to sound his own low growl against her throat. She twisted beneath him and he could feel her struggle with herself, her waring desires emanating off of her in conflicting pulses. He watched with some sympathy and a cruel sort of satisfaction as she was torn between her urge to fight, and her fear that if she fought him too hard he might leave her unsatisfied and suffering alone in her desire.

His hand left her throat and gripped the back of her neck, tilting it back roughly as he brushed his mouth against her ear, his lips curving into a dark smirk.

"If you want me to stop, you'll have to say the words." He graveled, swallowing a moan as she squirmed again, grazing his hips with hers and grinding against his thigh, letting him feel the heat of her sex. He did...most keenly. He grit his teeth as she rubbed her own thigh firmly against his still imprisoned cock.

The look she gave him was heated, and with far more lust than anger, but she released the quilt and shoved hard against him, accepting his invitation.

He allowed her to push him off, and chuckled darkly at her cry of surprise and pain as he caught her and flipped her off the bed, laying her out on her back and knocking the wind from her as she hit the floor with far too much force. She was too stunned, and he too fast, for her to do anything but lift one feeble resisting hand in her defense as he followed her to the floor and covered her body with his own.

"I wasn't finished." He smirked and tore both her dress and shift to her thighs as she continued to struggle pointlessly beneath him. It seemed more to escape the ruined, restraining dress however, and kick it from her legs than to free herself of the hands which wrapped around her arms, or the hard mouth angling feverishly over her own.

Thea gave into the kiss, basking in its intoxicating urgency and delighting in the pure naked desire pouring through it to engulf her. She resisted before it could entirely and raise a quick knee, hoping to catch him off guard now that his hands and mouth were more pleasantly occupied. He let out a smug laugh against her lips which both infuriated and aroused her as he shifted to deftly avoid her attack. She knew he would, having done it so very many times in the past when they'd sparred. She was prepared for it and used his momentum against him in order to buck him off and she almost laughed as he was forced to release her in order to keep her from landing a second blow.

Once again she let her desire lead her and instead of taking the opportunity to escape she rolled onto her knees and used her full weight to push him to the floor, her thighs trapping his and hands pinning his shoulders.

For a moment she felt a surge of elated triumph as she smirked down at him...but the feeling was short lived. Red lust and anger had been driving her— instinct and pain. Now...now that she was kneeling here naked astride his fully clothed form, she wasn't so certain. What happened next? She'd been fighting for the upper hand, now what should she do with it now that she'd gained it?

His eyes were fiery black pits, and they devoured her with their heat, burning her very thoughts into indistinct ash.

His hands came up once more, thankfully, and didn't leave her time to think too hard or long about what was happening. His long fingers bit into her flesh cruelly, bruising and possessive...saving her once more from the trap of her thoughts, pulling her back into the game.

He grinned darkly at her, his fangs curving, sharp and white, over his blood red lips. She grinned back and took her cue from him, banishing thought, and fear, and guilt, and wrenched his shirt from his shoulders with her hands. The material tore like fine paper in her inhuman grip, leaving nothing but the firm, smooth expanse of his muscular chest for her to admire.

She wasted no more time and fell upon him like a starved animal, lapping and nipping at his flesh, dragging her fangs across it and leaving fine lines of welling blood in her wake only to drag her tongue back over them, tracing the map of his body with her own. His grip weakened and she trembled with renewed elation as she felt him shudder with pleasure, for the moment too caught up in what she was doing to even pretend to resist her and the fingers in her hair urging her on instead of forcing her away.

She loved the taste of him, his skin, his blood. She had from the first time she'd felt it flood her mouth. It filled her with electric strength and inflamed her desire until she was a quivering mass of raw energy and lust. He still made no move to stop her, but let out a sound somewhere between a throaty growl and a moan, his body twisting beneath her restlessly. She felt the sound as much as she heard it, felt it deep in the core of her being, and it sent another wave of liquid heat straight between her legs to her already throbbing sex.

She could feel his hard cock still trapped in his breaches and ground her bare, aching pussy against the rough material between them. He answered by capturing a hanging breast and squeezing it roughly, his thumb flicking hard over her nipple and sending shards of pleasure-pain all the way to the tips of her fingers. Her own questing tongue captured one of his own in return and she pushed back, scrapping it with her teeth, taunting him as both their minds flitted to the many times their positions had been reversed.

She chuckled as a hand gripped her neck in warning, but too late. Already her fangs were piercing flesh and letting that liquid fire wash over her tongue and scorch her until there was nothing left but blessed emptiness, nothing but that pulsing void, throbbing with the dark rhythm of his essence.

Jairus cursed and hissed through clenched teeth, bucking his hips involuntarily as she sunk her teeth into the sensitive flesh. His cock pulsed and he fought to keep it under control, to keep from releasing then and there. Already he was so close, teetering on the blade's edge. He gasped in relief when she released him only to find her moving lower to loosen the ties which held him prisoner.

Her hands were like hot silk, and her mouth...dear god her mouth...

Her tongue wrapped around his cock head, pulling him in deep, pressing him against the soft flesh of her throat. He felt her laugh again sending a warm vibration up the length of his shaft and straight to the back of his skull, a sensation soon joined by a shudder as the tips of her fangs grazed the flesh at the base of his manhood. With a feral growl he caught himself and pulled her from him.

"None of that." He warned darkly.

"Why?" she rasped back, her dark eyes defiant. "You did it..." she smirked and gripped his cock with her free hand.

"I," he snarled, "have more than a weeks experience wielding my fangs." She laughed again, a deep throaty sound, made rougher by the fact that he still held her head tilted back.

"Afraid?"

"Don't push me woman."

He rolled to his knees, pulling her along with him. He still held her captive as he knelt before her, and pressed her down on all fours. His grip tightened, making her grunt and struggle, but when he turned her face back to his cock, all she did was glance up at him with blackened, knowing eyes and slide her tongue along his length, making his cock jump in response. She moved to take him into her mouth once more, but he held her still with a growl.

"No teeth."

She glared, but only let out the faintest whimper as he pressed himself roughly back into her mouth, thrusting against her throat and making her fight for purchase and air. He watched with furious delight as his cock disappeared into her searing, suckling mouth and savored her groans and whimpers as she was forced to accept him. He groaned in even greater satisfaction, his thrusts increasing in urgency, as he abandoned all delicacy and restraint and fucked her mouth hard and fast, the way he had longed but feared to do.

She took everything he gave her and more. The harder he thrust, the harder and longer she would pull at him, her nails digging into his thighs hard enough to draw blood if she'd had skin beneath her fingers, and forcing him ever deeper into her eager mouth. He shut tight his eyes and tried to focus on something other than the heavy throb of his cock as it slid inside of her sultry mouth. He still rode the precipice and willed himself to hold back, desperate to make the sensation last, but his control couldn't hold out long. It became an impossibility when he opened his eyes and found hers gazing hotly back up at him just as he slid wetly from her swollen lips.

He gripped her with a snarl, holding her still and pushed in the length of his cock with one thrust, feeling the head slip past the barrier of her throat just as the first hot rope of cum seared through him and shot into her waiting mouth. The second landed across her tongue as he withdrew, and the third across her open lips.

He reached down and gripped his cock, groaning at the erotic sight. Thea made a similar sound as he pulled her from her knees by her nape, hauling her up towards and against him until her legs dangled uselessly beneath her. He ran his tongue over her mouth, tasting himself on her lips making her gasp, and giving him fuller access. He took it only to have her push back, her lips crushing against his as her own tongue plundered his mouth with relentless ferocity.

Her body slid like satin against his as she twisted in his grip, her serpentine limbs causing just enough trouble that he was forced to pin her arms to her sides with his own and use his body to pin hers against one of the bed posts, keeping it immobile, but still taking far too much pleasure in the way she fought against him to be free..if fighting was what it could be called.

Thea's heels were roughly tracing the length of his thighs through his trousers before digging aggressively into the small of his back as her own soft thighs came up to wrap around his waist, squeezing as if to pin him back. She held him close despite her attempts to loosen his grip on her arms. She wanted to turn the tables once more, but the only thing he was pinned to was her. Not that he was keen to complain about that contradiction, nor over the way her firm breasts pressed tight against him as she fought his grip on her arms...or the way her slick pussy was sliding along the length of his still rigid cock. Every inch of her was softness and heat. But it wasn't a searing heat, it warmed and soothed his chilled flesh and made him long to sink deeper into her, to drown in her.