anita_blake | (no subject)

(no subject)

Anita is curled up on the couch in the room she sees as the lycanthrope room, a book in her hands. She's trying very hard not to think much.

Think about Jean-Claude.

Think about Richard.

Think about Asher.

Think about Micah.

Or Damian.

Or Nathaniel.

No one. Nothing. She just loses herself in her book, the door ajar in cases anyone comes by looking for her.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

He can feel that slow shift as she relaxes, and while her closeness doesn't exactly make him calm, it it satisfies him on such a primal level that he can't possibly complain.

"Yes," he breathes, infusing that single word with all the hues of his emotions. "This is what we need." He uses the plural purposefully.

Anita blushes a little, feeling him against her, his pleasure at having her there obvious.

"We can't do this every day," she points out.

Edited 2009-09-07 17:15 (UTC)

"Pity," he manages with a small smile, pleased and amused all at once.

Anita tilts her head back, eyes on Damian.

"I'm not sure how much more I can give you yet," she breathes. "But I know how much more you want."

"I appreciate your honesty. I know you have many other things to deal with, other people and relationships that are important to you. I understand that." Damian has never deluded himself into thinking he will be anything other than one of many. It doesn't bother him to share Anita; it bothers him to be left out completely.

"Wants can be addressed in time. Needs should be seen to." Watch Damian appeal to Anita's pragmatism. "Touch isn't easy for either of us, but touch is what we both need. When you feel the need to touch me, try not to run. It doesn't have to be sex to be satisfying." Their current state proves that quite eloquently.

Anita nods ever so slightly.

"I can't make any promises, because I don't want to lie to you, but I will try, Damian. I just might... need you to remind me from time to time to stop worrying about whether it's appropriate or not."

"Despite what your upbringing would have you believe, it is always appropriate to touch your servant," Damian assures her. Bending down, he presses a kiss to her forehead, not pressing for more than he believes she can handle at the moment. (Read: A passionate kiss might be pushing his luck.)

Anita laughs softly.

"In American, if you touch your servant, you can get slapped with a sexual harassment suit."

"Only if the servant disapproves," Damian points out with a small smile, his expression making it quite clear that he approves.

Her hands keep touching, moving over his body, learning it, trying to not let lust rise inside her. She doesn't even allow Nathaniel in her bed naked, but here she was, letting Damian.

It doesn't make sense.

Damian can feel her thinking, even as her touches tingle pleasantly across his skin.

"Stop thinking," he advises.

Anita gives him a look.

"It's hard not to think. It's what I do best. Think."

Think things to death, really.

"It's what you do most," he corrects before he can stop himself. He tenses when he realises what an insult that might be taken as.

There's another soft chuckle against his throat.

"I can't help it. It's just... who I am."

"We are alike and different, you and I," Damian says cryptically, relaxing once again when she doesn't get angry with him for his rash words. He is quiet for a few minutes before speaking again. "May I ask a favour of you?"

"You can ask anything you want," she says, her fingers exploring his hip. "I just can't promise I can give you what you ask for."

That's fair, and he nods his understanding. Her touch is a bit distracting, but in the most pleasant of ways.

"Next time you have me guarding you and decide to take others to bed, may I have permission to assign a more level-headed guard to your service? I did guard you and would have protected you against any threat that arrived, but my mindset was not ideal."

Anita feels her face darken with a blush as the meaning of his words sinks in.

"You were turned on?" she asks, keeping her face pressed to his shoulder.

"What is the modern expression..." Damian muses aloud, smiling when he recalls it. "Wired for sound."

See? Ancient vampires learn new tricks every day... brought to you by the modern vernacular of Jason Schuyler.

There's a groan from her, her hand tightening on his hip.

"God," she says, shaking her head. "I didn't even think about you hearing us."

"I know that now," he says, attempting to soothe her a little, though he can't keep the amusement from his voice. It hurt a bit, knowing that he hadn't even been an afterthought, but on the other hand, he knows what crazy circumstances surrounded those nights, and he can't hold her priorities against her. His feelings were much less important than Asher's life. He believes that, and it lessens the blow.

He deems it wise to refrain from telling her that he hears nearly all of the activities in the house as well. She can figure that out at her own speed. Best not to push his luck at the moment, and he doesn't have a solution to offer that she would accept.

Oh, Anita's figuring a lot of things out at present, with him pressed to her naked.

"You hear us, don't you?" she whispers. "Micah, Nathaniel, and me. You hear us."

He'll have to blame it on the calm she gains from their touch.

"Yes," he admits, unwilling to lie to her.

"Fuck," she sighs. "I... God."

It's embarrassing. Terribly so, to know he hears them.

Listens.

He doesn't know if there is anything he can say that won't make her embarrassment worse, so he remains silent, touching gently in a way that won't be taken sexually.