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

"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.

Anita sighs softly, and then laughs, the sound a little nervous.

"This is insane. My life... is just insane."

"I cannot argue that point," Damian confesses.

"No one can."

Anita decides she preferred it when they were kissing and touching, so she returns to that. It's as close to 'safe' as she can get right now. Her lips press to his, a silent, but firm, command and offer in the gesture.

Who is Damian to refuse the command of his mistress, spoken or unspoken?

His broad hands move over the soft heat of her skin as he takes control of the kiss. After so little from her in the previous months, he is overwhelmed by even these simple touches. It feels so right, being close like this, and he does his best to take it all in without taking advantage, finding that balance between too little and too much.

Anita's hand strokes down his hip again, over his thigh. Damian's skin is soft, so soft, warm under her touch. She knows he's fed, but she doesn't dare ask from who. She merely accepts he's warm and soft where her hand moves and hard where he's pressed against her.

Her tongue slides into her mouth, careful of his fangs. She's become quite adept at kissing vampires, it seems, and she uses that skill now. It's delicious, and she presses for more, her hands moving boldly over his body.

If it's more she wants, she is sure to get it. Damian moans, low and deep, into their kiss. His own hands go on the move, exploring her smaller body with its wonderful curves. Fingers trace down the valley of her spine, and he cups her backside through the lace barrier. It is clear that he wants her, but still he doesn't push. She had ordered 'no sex', after all.

But sex has a very, very narrow definition for Anita, which allows her to feel a little more freedom in what they do. Her hand cups him as she moans into his mouth, tangling her legs with his. He's smooth and long, beautiful to her sense of touch, and she has the wild urge to know what he feels like between her lips.

That particular touch is unexpected, and he jerks in her grasp, his mouth pulling away from hers in a gasp. "Anita... Mistress, your wishes..." he tries to remind her, his face contorting ever so slightly with the effort not to break her trust in him.

"I said no sex," she murmurs, kissing down his throat, letting herself simply feel with him, not thinking. Her fingers dance along the length of him. "We're not having sex."

He fears she'll deny him like his previous mistress was so fond of doing. Anita has no idea how much he fears, but he pushes it aside in order to feel all that she gives him. He doesn't argue with her, taking her word as law for the moment.

Damian doesn't trust his voice so he simply groans around the words of protest that remain stuck in his throat. He wants this so very badly, and the shudder that runs the length of him is a clear indication of that.

Anita shifts their position, pushing Damian onto his back as she straddles his thighs. She has the undeniable urge to see him lose himself, to see what Damian looks like without that carefully crafted, painfully earned control. Her lips move over his chest as her hand continues to touch him, pump him in a languid rhythm.

She's still in her bra and panties, and she has no intention of taking them off. Damian had wanted to touch, to kiss, to be with her, and so she gives him that. Her utter attention. Her touch. Her kisses.

It's more than he could ever have hoped for, and he stares up at her, his hands gripping at her thighs. He struggles to keep that control, but it is quickly slipping away.

It isn't that he hasn't enjoyed the pleasures she offers with others over the last few months, but he hasn't enjoyed them with her, and her touch is more than just skin on skin, it is the touch of master to servant. It makes the experience entirely different and much more intense.

"Anita..."