The Mary Sue Virus: Beyond Death

[ladydeathfaerie]

Title: The Mary Sue Virus: Beyond Death 
Chapter Fifteen: The Intimacy Of Danger
Fandom: Anita Blake universe
Rating: 18 and up
Warnings: graphic sex and violence, language, anything else i can toss in.
Disclaimer: the recognizable characters and places contained herein are the property of LKH. i'm merely borrowing for the sake of entertainment. no money is being made from this venture. the Sues are the sole property of their originators, Ginevra, Dazzledfirestar, Nanaea, SilverFoxChan and ladydeathfaerie. the concept and title of The Mary Sue Virus are used with permission from Dazzledfirestar. all beta work, plot bunny shooting and ass spanking is being done by Gin. 

The Mary Sue Virus: Beyond Death - Index Link 

Isis stared at the pale hand before her, a confused mix of emotions rolling through her. A thrill that had nothing to do with sex had spiked into her body the moment Jean Claude had turned his attention on her. She recognized that the lioness in her was pleased with the show of power. She'd felt that same satisfaction when Haven had launched himself at Damian. She'd watched the fight with a sort of perverse satisfaction and anticipation. While one part of her had been silently rooting for Damian, another less rational part had simply wanted to see blood. It had wanted whoever was strongest to win. It had begged to see death.

That had frightened the part of her that recalled being SFC. She'd noticed that it had been easier to fall into her Sue's life and mind this time and she'd almost forgotten that this wasn't really her place. Until the fight had started and she'd seen that bloodthirsty side of her own self come to life. It had been a purely ruthless reaction and she'd hated that she'd not been more concerned about Damian than she had been. She'd been disappointed when Jean Claude had stopped the fight. It had taken her a few minutes to realize that those feelings and thoughts belonged to her Sue and, while they were a part of her own thoughts, they didn't belong to her.

And now, Jean Claude was holding a hand out to her as if he expected her to take it. She knew what was going on, had felt the rush of power as it had slid through the room. She'd been shocked at the way Aedan had gone after Rhiannon. That hadn't been something she'd considered happening. Minette had chosen her partner and had disappeared behind a wall of rats. While every one had been able to hear what was going on, they hadn't been able to see it. So they'd turned their attention to Aedan. She hadn't cared one way or the other if people watched. In fact, she seemed to have relished the idea of an audience. It left Isis wondering just what had gone on in the woman's past to make her the person she was now.

Isis allowed her gaze to flick around the room. Rhiannon and Richard had disappeared and she thought that it was something to do with the encounter with Aedan. Minette was wrapped in Requiem's cloak, the vampire's arm around her as she studied her friend carefully. Rafael was close behind her, his eyes turned to where Damian and Asher still stood with Augustine. Most of the members of the different groups who'd come for the meeting hadn't moved, still sitting or standing where they'd been before the show had started and looking very much like they weren't bothered one way or the other by the scent of sex that hung heavy on the air.

She turned her gaze back to where Damian stood. There was nothing on his face to give away what he was thinking. She wondered if he would deny his master this or if he'd allow it without a word. He still held Augustine, whose attention was directed to where Aedan stood. She'd moved away from him almost casually, her steps a little wobbly, to stand where the rest of her clothes lay scattered on the floor. She was eyeing Augustine speculatively and it didn't take a genius to understand what she was thinking.

"Damian?" Jean Claude's voice pulled her from her thoughts. His pale hand still hovered before her face, his attention lingering on the man across the room.

"If Isis does not object," Damian finally replied. It was a diplomatic answer but she thought she detected a slight sense of unhappiness from him. He really didn't like the idea. He wasn't foolish enough, though, to deny his master in front of a guest who would see it as a sign of weakness. Her stomach did a flop when Jean Claude turned to pin her with that incredibly blue gaze of his.

She understood enough of politics to know that her answer was more important than the one Damian had given. She was honestly torn between how she felt about him and the possible damage her actions could bring. She flicked her gaze to Damian and found herself caught in the sparkling green of his eyes. She offered him a faint smile and watched as he inclined his head in reply. He knew what she was thinking. He wasn't going to blame her or hate her for what she was going to do, even if it hurt him. She was going to have to make this up to him later. Somehow, as depressing as it was, this was the only way to make sure they all stayed secure.

It didn't matter that there was a part of her that was practically screaming that she fuck Jean Claude now. The decision was made out of necessity, not hormones. Isis brought her golden gaze back to his blue one and reached out to take his hand.

His palm was cool against her own. Fire shot up her arm to course through her body. It ate away at her reservations and doubts, filling her with an intense, exquisite need that demanded she take what she wanted from him. That she take him. Now. Lust rose within her, blotting out any objections she'd had. He gave a gentle tug on her hand and she rose gracefully to her feet. He pulled her into his body, pressing her close while he wrapped his arms around her. She found herself caught in his stare, lost in the liquid depths of the unending blue. Her breath caught in her throat.

By all that was holy, the man was gorgeous.

He dipped his head to press a kiss to her lips. His mouth was as cool as his hand, the pressure in them light and teasing. She breathed a soft, silent sigh against his lips. His arms tightened fractionally and she felt the insistent need of his body as it pressed against hers. That brought a moan to her lips. Her mouth opened beneath his, allowing him to slip his tongue inside. Her arms slid up over his shoulders to twine in the hair that fell soft and silky across his back.

He moved them as they kissed, his lips never breaking contact with hers. His tongue stroked across her own, touched every inch of flesh on the inside of her mouth. She moaned softly, her body responding to the feel of his molded so intimately to it. Desire and passion ran wild through her veins, burning away everything but the need to have him naked against her flesh, to feel him buried within her and thrusting hard against her body. A small sound of need rolled up her throat and her hands slid down his back until they rested at the waistband of his jeans. Her fingers gathered up the edges of his shirt and pushed it up until she could drag her hands against the flesh at the small of his back.

He finally pulled back from her then, his gaze intent as he looked down into her eyes. There was so much to see in them, a great swirling mass of thoughts and emotions that she simply couldn't read. Instead, she pulled her hands away from his skin and brought them around front. For a moment, she debated with herself. Should she remove her clothing or should she remove his? He seemed to be waiting for her to come to a decision. Finally, she reached for the top button on his shirt and began slipping it from its hole.

The line of buttons gave way under her nimble fingers and soon the garment was sent to the floor forgotten. She turned her attention to his chest and stared a moment before dipping her head to take a nipple in her mouth. Her tongue laved at the small nub, her lips sucking at it hungrily. His hands slipped into her hair, fingers forming to the shape of her skull. A shudder rippled through him when she bit down, then she transferred her mouth to the nipple's neglected mate. Her fingers slid up his sides, nails raking gently against his ribs as she brought them back down to his waist.

He drew her away from him gently, fingers threaded in the length of her hair. She looked up at him, confused for a moment, then saw the intent in his eyes. Her hands drifted around the waistband of his jeans until they found the closure. He stopped her with a glance, then took one hand. She allowed him to lead her, wondering what he was planning.

The trip was short. The two of them cut around the side of the nearest couch, coming to a stop behind the large piece of furniture. By this time, those who had been sitting on it had moved and the entire thing was open to view. She glanced up at him, a question in her eyes. He simply smiled back at her, pulling her forward to kiss her once again. His lips were firm and demanding. And while he plundered her mouth with his own, his hands were busy pulling at her clothing.

Her blouse went first, tossed almost carelessly over the couch to land on the cushion before her. He divested her of her bra next, the piece of underwear dropping to the floor at their feet. She barely registered his fingers pulling at the zipper on the back of her skirt. She never noticed as it slipped down her legs. Her panties followed and she gave a sound of frustration when he broke the kiss to guide them down to the floor. She could only watch as his hands lifted her feet and pulled the scrap of lace from them. But when he came back up....

She shuddered as his hands gently glided back up her legs, his fingers soft against her skin. At the knee, his hand shifted inward and inched up, almost touching her swollen nether lips. But he skirted around to the front of her thighs at the last possible moment and left her aching for more of his touch. As he rose, his hands drifted across the flat plain of her abdomen, making the muscles just beneath the surface quiver with need and desire. The moment his fingers curled over the swell of her breasts, her breath came from her in a soft gasp.

She arched her back, pressing her breasts further into his hands. His palms were cool against her heated flesh, the skin smooth next to her own. Tendrils of fire snaked through her torso to pool deep in her belly. She shifted closer to him, a subtle invitation. The press of his lips against her throat brought forth a whimpering moan. Flames were licking at her, eating away her ability to hold herself back. She could barely feel his body as it hovered close to hers. But she was lost to the way his mouth ate at her throat, his fangs scraping the tight flesh every once in a while. The slight pain flared through her like brilliantly colored sparks. His hands, moving so slowly and thoroughly against her breasts, drew soft gasps and sharp moans from her. She was lost in the sensations, could barely think past the need thundering in her veins.

She couldn't help or stop the whimper that came when he drew back from her. His sudden loss left her feeling as if she were adrift on the ocean, hungry and thirsty and he was the only person in the world who could feed her. Who could give her drink. Who could chase away the tidal wave of emotion that threatened to crash down over her head. She reached for him almost blindly, the uncontrollable urge to hold him close threatening to choke her.

"Shhh, my little lion. I will not leave you now," he whispered. His voice was a silken caress that sent shudders rippling up and down her spine. She barely nodded her head, could only stand and watch as he reached for the buttons that held his jeans closed. Her eyes were wide as she watched him tug at each of the small metal disks that held the denim shut. Soon enough, the flaps hung open in a vee, giving her a glimpse of short black curls. She licked her lips before glancing up to find that he was watching her.

It was so easy to get lost in the fathomless depths of his eyes. The blue was so complete, so dark and demanding. There was a gentle pull to his gaze, a silent command that she didn't quite understand but knew she'd obey. She stepped forward and carefully curled her fingers around the loosened waistband of his jeans. He watched her, silent and still, as she slowly pushed them down. Their eyes held for several long seconds before she pulled hers away to look at the prize she'd uncovered.

His shaft was flushed with the blood he'd taken upon waking, a pale, pearly pink that somehow seemed so much more erotic than normal. He stood erect, bobbing slightly as if trying to convince her to come closer. The utter masculine beauty of him called to her and drew her nearer. Her eyes held his as she reached up to gently wrap her fingers around his cock. The moment she touched him, his eyes slipped closed. She smiled, her hand drifting up and down the length of his erection for several passes before she leaned in and dragged her tongue across the head. Those deep blue eyes flew open to pin her with a stare.

His hands were on her arms, bringing her to her feet in a motion so swift that she barely had time to register what he was doing. His mouth settled over hers in a quick, possessing kiss that left her breathless and nearly limp in his grasp. Then he turned her so that she faced the rest of the room, wrapping her hands over the top of the couch. His hold moved to her waist, pulling her back until she was leaning over the back of the piece.

There were faces watching them but she shoved them aside. Instead, she concentrated on the slow progress of his hand as it caressed the small of her back and down over the curve of her ass. Her breath hitched in her throat when his fingers dipped between her legs and slid along the seam of her swollen lips. Every muscle in her body tensed and she froze as he pressed a pair of digits into her. A short, soft sigh passed her lips and she melted into the feel of his hand as it stroked in and out of her.

The heat was back, burning with more intensity as it rushed through her veins. The feel of him behind her, of his hand driving her need to higher heights, was more than enough to send flames roaring across every single nerve ending to leave her in a state of lust-crazed starvation. All she could focus on was the way her body wanted.... no, demanded that he be inside of her now. She pressed back into him, her hips making a silent demand that he fill her with his cock. She heard a low chuckle behind her, the sound pouring through her body as if it were made of pure, liquid silk. She shuddered with the feel and wondered briefly if he was going to kill her with touch and sound.

His hand was suddenly gone and, before she could truly miss the feel of it, he was positioning himself to take her. Her body cried out for it, ready and willing to succumb to his wants and desires. All she knew was that she ached for him, that she was burning up inside for him. His hands curled about her waist and she felt the head of his cock nudging at her lips. Her hips rocked back into him. He pushed forward and slid easily into her.

A low, keening sound rolled up her throat to paint the still air. Jean Claude was buried completely inside of her. The muscles stretched around him were already flexing, already demanding more. His grip on her waist tightened and he pulled back slowly. The sensation was exquisite torture. When he pressed forward again, she nearly came undone. Whatever she'd been expecting from him, it wasn't this slow assault of her senses.

He moved with slow, measured thrusts, blatantly ignoring the way her hips rocked back into his, how her body silently begged his to give her what she so desperately wanted and needed. Each forward stroke was a lesson in ecstasy, each withdrawal a slow, painful torture. How could he be so calm and controlled in the face of the heat that burned through her? How could he take his time as if this meant nothing to him? The flames were eating at her reason, demanding that he fulfill every last wish and desire that lived within her. He was moving too slowly for that to happen. A soft growl rumbled up her throat. He answered with another faint chuckle.

"Tell me what it is you want, my little lion," he said softly, his voice cutting into the near silence. She tossed her head, looking over her shoulder at him. There was something in his eyes, swimming in the depths of that blue gaze, that caught and held her for what felt like an eternity. His hips stilled, the length of his erection buried completely inside of her. She smiled and pressed back further until she gasped.

"I want you to fuck me," she whispered. She watched his lips curl up into a sensuous smile that lit up his eyes so that they seemed to sparkle. The hands at her waist tightened again, until his hold was almost too painful.

"As my lady wishes," he replied. She watched him with a heavy gaze as he drew back. Her body clutched at him, trying to keep him from leaving her. He was on the verge of slipping out and she knew a moment of panic, was afraid that he'd pull away entirely and leave her hungry for more. Begging for more. But he shoved forward with force. She had to tighten the grip she had on the back of the couch and felt her nails dig into the butter soft leather. Felt them grow and become something else. A hearty grunt spilled from her lips as a whirling mix of pleasure and pain rolled through her.

He began a steady tempo, hips pounding almost too hard against her own. Her body cried out and sang with it, joy and pleasure and pain and heated desire spiking through her until she couldn't distinguish one from the other. She was a living mass of feeling and need, every inch of her flesh demanding more from him. Muscles clutched at his invading length, trying to keep it from sliding from her. Each and every thrust brought a gasp or moan from her lips, the friction between them a devilishly pleasant feeling that burned higher and higher within.

Each time he shoved into her, it spread the flames of need, urged them higher until she felt as if she were burning. A power that was both hot and cold teased at her flesh, coaxed her senses with whispered promises. Her body fell into rhythm with his, driving back into him when he filled her. Pain flashed through her, chased with pleasure. Both were coated in a sensual bliss that threatened to steal every last bit of who and what she was. For the moment, she was nothing more than his. His little lion. She was filled with need for him and wanted to give him everything that she could. She wanted him to share his lusts and power with her, wanted to roll in the feel of him the way a cat rolled in catnip.

He was moving faster against her, harder. A soft litany of French crept up her back and found its way into her ears. She understood none of it even though she felt every syllable down to her very soul. Those words sounded erotic and dirty, a promise of hidden pleasures and hedonistic delights in every one of them. His hands no longer held her hips but instead glided up over her spine, feather light touches that poured shivers all through her.

Each touch, each uttered word, each stroke of his cock.... It all combined into a single mass, a ball of flaming pleasure and desire so bright and so heavy that she didn't think she'd be able to survive when it broke over her. She was mewling, deep cat sounds passing over her lips. She writhed and arched, riding him as much as he was fucking her. Her eyes had long since slid shut and she was only vaguely aware of the others in the room. She could smell lust on someone, the subtle perfume of sexual desire scenting the air. It only served to drive her closer and closer to the edge of madness.

He was moving hard and fast, his cock sliding in and out of her so quickly that her muscles had no time to react. By the time they thought to clutch at him, he was already pressing back in. And the tension was growing, a hard knot in her belly that she knew would break soon, spilling everything she felt out like a river bursting a dam. She welcomed it, begged for more. Those long, graceful hands of his had moved from her back to her front, both grasping at her breasts. His fingers tweaked and pulled her nipples, twisting them until she cried out from the pain and still begged him for more.

A cry fell from her lips, a pleased and startled sound when his hands shifted once more. One arm had drifted upward until his hand was shaped to the column of her throat. His thumb stroked over the throbbing pulse there, a soft, teasing touch that fogged her mind and made her forget about the need to let it all go. The other arm slid lower and she all but came when his fingers settled against her clit. It was the first time he'd touched it and the small bundle was so sensitive, so neglected. He flicked at it, his nail scraping over the bit of flesh. She froze, back arching into him, driving him further into her body. Her mouth opened on a soundless cry and her eyes flew wide, staring unseeing at the room around her.

It was like a small bit of heaven. A sense of contentment washed over her, of completion. Her vision went black, then white and bursts of gold flashed as she came around him. He redoubled his efforts, hips pumping against her own furiously. His fingers kept stroking her clit, kept prolonging her orgasm. It was hard to breathe, hard to think. All she wanted to do was sink into the couch, a boneless heap, and swim in the gift of liquid pleasure he'd already granted her. But his hands held her to him, refused to release her. Refused to end the orgasm that kept rolling through her.

It had to stop. She wanted to beg with him, plead for it to end. At the same time, she wanted this feeling to go on forever. It felt like she was flying. Her mind was filled with impossible images and hopeful dreams, his voice still drifting across her body, a caress like the touch of any flesh and blood hand. She felt a tension in him, sudden and dangerous. It was almost as if a wild animal lurked within him, ready and eager to pounce. His body pressed close, the cool heat of it soothing against the raging fire beneath her skin.

The world dimmed once more, pleasure spiraling upward to wash over her head. She vaguely felt the prick of fangs at her throat. His mouth closed over her skin and his hips shoved his cock deep. Orgasm ripped over her, drowning her in the honey thick tendrils of pleasure. His body convulsed over her own and he poured himself into her. At the same time, she felt him feeding from her. From the vein at her neck. And from something less tangible but no less real. She was held weightless in his arms for an eternity. Everything vanished in a haze of spent desires. Then the world came crashing back down around her and she found herself staring up into those amazing blue eyes.

~*~*~*~*~

Rhiannon nearly stumbled as Richard pushed her none too gently into the room. Jason had shown them to it, his eyes wide and cautious around his unsettled Ulfric. The door thumped closed behind her heavily. It should have been an ominous sound, but it sent a thrill up her spine. Just as the low growl trickling from his throat did. She turned to face him, barely taking note of the lush bed before her. Instead, she wanted to see his face. She wanted to tease him just the slightest bit. There'd been hints over the passing days as to just what she did to him. She wasn't simple enough to believe that he cared for her. But he wanted her. She'd seen it day after day in those luscious brown eyes of his, richer than the finest chocolate. She'd felt it in the lines of his body and the sudden tension that would come to him at what seemed to be the strangest times.

He was watching her now, his back pressed solidly up against the door. His eyes were golden in the dim light, the eyes of his beast peering out at her from his human face. There was a predatory look in them that she'd seen before. It had been in Jeremy's eyes, though. And it had been what felt a lifetime ago. No one had looked at her like that in a very long time. She kind of liked the way it made her feel. When he didn't move right away, she had a sudden urge to taunt him. Some thing inside of her wanted to see just how far she could push her luck.

She took a step sideways, his eyes tracking her movement. He said nothing, though. Even the growling had quieted. She liked the growling. She wanted him to do it again. A wicked smile slid across her face and she inched closer to him. "If you aren't going to do anything, stand aside and let me go find Aedan."

His eyes narrowed and she swore he pressed back against the door further.

"She liked me, Richard," Rhiannon whispered, allowing her hands to trail up her belly until she could casually caress her breasts. "It felt wonderful to have her body pressed up against mine, so hard and unyielding. And her kisses were as intoxicating as wine."

There was a slight growl from him, though it wasn't nearly as intense as she'd hoped for.

"And her hands," she continued. This time, she allowed one hand to slide lower. His eyes followed it until she had it toying with the edge of her jeans. A slight smile played around her lips before she lowered the other hand. The pair of them worked at the fly on her jeans, pulling it open so that she could slip her hand into the opening. Her breath hitched and her eyes closed involuntarily for a moment when her fingers touched the throbbing bundle of nerves hidden there. She heard him scent the air. Slowly, her hand dipped further and she slid a single finger into her hungry body. Her sigh filled the room.

When she opened her eyes, he'd taken a step toward her. Her lips curled into a knowing smirk and she let her finger work slowly in and out so that she was sure he'd know. "Her hands were so amazing. She knew just the right places to touch. My breasts still ache for her knowing fingers. And my pussy.... Do you suppose she would have gone down on me if she'd been given the chance? I imagine it would have felt amazing. Her lips working at me and her tongue tasting every inch."

The growl deepened and intensified. Between the feel of her finger, the images she'd conjured of the other woman naked and feeding off her body and the way he was looking at her, growling at her.... She felt like she was going to burst. She needed him and she needed him now. Still, if he didn't intend to give her what she wanted, she was willing to bet that Aedan would. This time, when she moved for the door, he took another step toward her. "I'm horny, Richard. I need someone to fill me and fuck me. If it isn't going to be you, then I'll go take Aedan up on the promise I felt in her hands and mouth just a short time ago."

"No!"

It was the only warning she had. The word was almost impossible to distinguish amidst the deep bass growl that came with it. One moment, she was on her way toward the door. The next, Richard had her in his arms. His grip was almost crushing and his mouth was on hers. It was another of those angry kisses, like the first one they'd shared. And she could feel that animal noise as it rumbled in his chest. The sound of him, so wild and feral, was more than enough to send thick, honeyed fingers of pleasure creeping out into her body.

His larger frame was forcing her back toward the bed while his mouth worked over hers. She could taste the fury and the passion, the jealousy on him and something rose in her mind. Memories of him naked and pressed against her before, his hands seeking out all the places that made her moan and sigh. Ghostly pleasure and completion raced through her, stringing her nerves tight with a nameless need. She was losing herself to memory, losing herself to the feel of his hands roving her back. She broke from his possessive kiss with a gasp, her arms sliding up around his neck so that she could clutch at his hair.

The fire that Aedan had first ignited in her, that had cooled since the woman had stopped touching her, roared back to life with his mouth and hands hot against hers. The memories and the very real feel of his erection caught between them was enough to bring flames of lust and need leaping through her. It was like a metaphysical pyre, the need to touch and be touched eating away at her until all she could do was feel. Thought was gone, replaced by hunger and desire. Every inch of her burned for him, begged and pleaded for him to make her feel the way she had before.

Cherished and needed. Loved.

Her hands began to pull frantically at his clothes, fingers clumsy in their attempts to undo his jeans. She felt his chest shake and then he pulled back. He was chuckling and he easily brushed her hands aside. She watched, captivated by his hands as they worked his t-shirt up over his head. The sight of his broad shoulders and the golden brown of his skin made her mouth water. She mirrored his actions and tugged her own shirt up and off. When his hands slid down to his jeans, hers followed and she tugged the denim down, kicking the garment away anxiously. Looking back up, her breath caught in her throat. He was utterly amazing to look at.

He reached for her, his hands stroking the straps of her bra off her shoulders and down her arms. She stood still as he turned her so that her back faced him. Nimble fingers unhooked the clasp of her bra and a gentle brush of his hands saw it sliding to the floor. Then those same fingers were dipping under the elastic of her panties and she felt him go down on his knees as he guided the bit of cotton down her legs. Hands on her hips, he turned her to face him again and their eyes caught. He held them as he leaned in and pressed his nose against the thatch of curled hair between her thighs. Anticipation lanced through her when he scented her then blossomed into something heavier and thicker when his fingers grazed against her swollen flesh.

Disappointment filled her when he rose to his feet, that faint touch nothing more than a promise whispered on the breeze. His hands glanced across her breasts and her breath hissed from her lungs with the sensation. She had to have more. He had to give her more.

Her gaze drifted down to his erection and she felt the first real trill of fear slip through her. So big.... He was watching her carefully when she brought her eyes back up to his. "I don't know... I don't think," she began. He stepped forward and silenced her.

"Don't be afraid, Rhiannon. I won't hurt you. I promise," he said, his tone light. She nodded and swallowed, her gaze drifting back down to his crotch. His hand reached out, fingers curling around her wrist. The action startled her and he pulled her own hand unresisting toward him. "You can touch me, Rhiannon. I won't bite."

She gave a slight nod, her fingers grasping his cock loosely. The skin was silky smooth and yet so hard. That slight touch was enough to start the fires burning again. She began stroking him, tightening her hold as she pumped up and down. He let go a soft sigh that quickly turned into a moan. His hips jerked, thrusting upward to meet her fist as it made its way to the base of his shaft. "God, Rhiannon..." he groaned.

That sound, so wanton and so unguarded, saw her sinking to her knees. She knew she'd never be able to get much of him into her mouth. But she wanted to taste him so badly. His eyes were still golden, glowing in the light as he watched her. The moment her lips closed around the head, he drew a sharp, strangled breath and every inch of his body went tense. She shifted her hold on him so that she grasped him at the base, settling her free hand on his thigh to steady herself.

She rolled her eyes up to look at him, smiling around the part of him that filled her mouth when she saw him watching her intently. She moved then, sliding down on him as far as she was able before she choked. It took a few moments for her to gather up a rhythm that allowed her to pleasure him to the best of her ability without gagging herself on his delicious cock. The scent of him filled her nostrils, a combination of both male and wolf musk with lingering traces of whatever body wash or soap he used on himself. It sent sharp, painful shafts of desire through her until she couldn't hold herself back.

She stretched her jaw around him, working more of him into her mouth as she slid down. The fist at the base of his cock squeezed tightly. It drew a moan from his throat and his hands reached for her. She fought his attempt to pull her off him at first, the soft struggle bringing forth another round of growling. "Rhiannon. Stop. I don't want to hurt you," he warned, the growl hanging on to each one of his words. She backed away from him, frowning. He reached for her again, helping her to her feet. They stared at one another for the space of several heartbeats, then his mouth was on hers again.

The banked embers of her lust burst into flames once more, heat sweeping through her body and into him. She fed it to him, pushed it into his mouth, giving him the power that Aedan had forced into her with her anxious touches and hot kisses. She wanted Richard to burn the same way she was, wanted him to feel the things she felt. She wanted him so desperately that she didn't quite understand it. All she was able to comprehend was the desire that flickered within her, the need to have him inside of her body. She needed him.

He took her down to the mattress, pressing her body into the softness of the bed beneath her with his own. His thighs found their way between her legs, the thick length of him laying against her curls. It was a promise of what was to come. She shivered against him, the action serving to coax a groan from him. His head lifted from hers. "Damn it, Rhiannon. You have to stop. I don't want to hurt you but if you keep this up..." his voice trailed off as he stared down into her face. She had the grace to blush, but his warning managed to cool some of the desire within her.

She relaxed back into the thick mattress and waited while he simply stared down at her. Then his head dipped and she felt his lips wrap around one of her nipples. She gasped loudly, her back arching to press more of her breast into his mouth. The heat of it ignited little fires within her, each one a steady, glowing flame that licked away at her inhibitions and fears. They left behind wanton desire before spreading out along her body. The need was so great. She could only lay under him, her limbs heavy with her growing desires. When his mouth moved to the other nipple, she whimpered softly. It took every last bit of energy to lift her hands and reach for his ass.

The muscles in his luscious backside were so tight, so perfectly formed. She squeezed them hard and urged him closer to her. "Richard," she gasped his name when his teeth grated over the nipple he held. Her nails dug into his flesh, the small pain forcing another growl up his throat. That was what she wanted. Just a small hint of aggression to feed the flames that ate at her and stole her will. The creature of lust that had found its way into her demanded the pain it would bring, wanted it. She dug her nails deeper, encouraging him further.

"Rhiannon," he lifted his head to look at her, her name a warning growl.

"Now," she ordered, fingers clutching harder. He looked for a moment as if he were going to argue. There was something in his expression. But it flowed away, leaving behind raw desire that pierced her to her very soul. She watched as he reared back, going up on his knees between her thighs. His hands moved to take hold of her knees, repositioning her legs until they were spread and offered him an unobstructed view of the prize she wanted him to claim.

His gaze was intense as he looked down at her. The air around them pressed close, cloying with its thick blanket of lust. She drew short, ragged breaths as she stared. One of his hands reached for her, fingers trailing across the pouting folds of swollen flesh. He tested the moisture beaded there, rubbing it between his fingertips before stroking against her lips again. This time, his fingers pressed between them. Into her. She arched into the touch and gasped.

He plunged a pair of digits into her body, thrusting them as deeply as he could. Small sparks of color popped behind her eyelids, a precursor to the orgasm she knew he was going to wring from her. There was a rumble of what she thought was appreciation in the back of his throat. It brought her eyes open so that she could look up at him. His attention was given over to the movement of his fingers, his gaze locked to the spot where his hand met her body. Her eyes drifted lower until she could watch him and the breath caught in her throat.

While one hand stroked effortlessly in and out of her, the other one was curled around the rigid length of his cock, moving slowly up and down. The head was weeping pre-cum, an angry red color that told her he wouldn't be able to wait much longer. The soft whimper that bubbled up from inside shifted his gaze to her own. He stared a moment before a wolfish smile slid over his face. His fingers drove deep, then pulled back and trailed across the head of his cock.

She was captivated by his show, her eyes following the way his hand scooped moisture out of her so that he could smear it across himself. Each time he touched her, each time he touched himself, the sparks grew into small explosions, the colors brightening and threatening to overwhelm her vision. It seemed to her that he took forever with his teasing. When his hands moved to her legs and pressed them open wide, she couldn't help but look at his cock. It was painted with the glistening wetness he'd drawn out of her, shining in the light like a beacon.

His hands held her legs in position, forced open as wide as possible and out to the sides of her body. It strained muscles and shortened her breath, but she didn't complain. She couldn't take her eyes off of him and watched with rapt fascination as he repositioned himself, hips moving until the head of his erection rested between her outer lips. His eyes focused on hers then, a silent question in them. She nodded silently, knowing that she was as ready as she was ever going to be. She wanted nothing more than to feel him fill her and stretch her, to feel him fuck her until she couldn't walk or see straight.

He pressed himself in slowly, his hips applying force as his cock inched its way inside her. She held her breath, fingers curling tightly into the bedding. God, he was so big. It hurt and she loved every moment of the pain. He stopped when he was buried completely within her. The muscles stretched around him were flexing, trying to acclimate themselves to his invading presence. He was still for the space of a few heartbeats.

And then he began thrusting.

She found her legs pushed back into her chest, caught between them as he drew back and shoved forward. It hurt to be caught under him like this, her body rolled up to afford him with a deeper angle. She could barely breathe. She didn't care. All she knew was the feel of him inside of her, thick and large and smooth as silk. The friction of their joining was exquisite torture, so painfully pleasurable that it set off a small orgasm that had her clutching at him for several short seconds. He groaned and his hips moved faster.

That fire that had been alternately burning and banking within was in full flame now. It lapped at his invading presence as if he were its life's blood. He leaned over her to take her mouth, his tongue slipping between her lips so that he fucked her with both body parts. She sighed, melting under him even while her hips rocked up to meet his.

"Harder, Richard," she begged softly, breaking her mouth from his so that she could pant for air. "Just a little harder."

His response was a growl and his hands planted themselves into the bedding beside her head. His hips thrashed harder so that each stroke was filled with pain and each withdrawal was accompanied by a sigh of regret. His mouth took hers again, a fiercely possessive kiss that again saw his tongue mirroring the motions of his cock. He shoved deep, raking the top ridge of his erection across her clit. She gave him her cry of pleasure as orgasm rocketed through her. He held himself still as she shook around him, buried as far inside of her as he could go.

When she stopped shuddering, he took up his rhythm again. His cock pistoned in and out, his hips bruising against her own as he slapped himself into her time and again. She was going to be sore, knew she'd need to relax in a hot bath to loosen stiffened muscles later. But she didn't care. It felt so wonderfully good to have him pounding himself into her. She'd always wanted this and never had it.

Sweat broke out against her skin, glinting off her breasts and her stomach. Her face was dappled in dew drops of salty moisture and her breath rasped from her throat. He was still driving himself into her, his strokes fast and hard. Droplets trickled down over his cheeks as he held himself over her, continued seeking his completion within her. Even though the walls had stretched around him, there was still an element of tightness that shot jolts of pain into the melting pool of pleasure and fulfillment that poured through her. He was going to kill her and she didn't care. She was going to die happy, stuffed with his cock and his seed.

She felt him swell a moment before he drove himself deep. A loud cry welled up out of her, a sound of ultimate pleasure and sweet pain. He twitched inside of her, giving off a mix of both groan and growl as he came. She could feel his seed splattering against her insides. Shudders raced up and down her spine, her body clenched tight around him as she rode her orgasm. And then came the rush of something less physical burst through her and filled her up. It poured from him into her, helping put out the fires that had been raging inside for too long. Color burst behind her eyelids, her breath caught in her throat until she thought her head would explode from lack of oxygen.

When she could breathe again, she found herself clutched against his body. She lay on top of him, could feel him still inside of her even though she knew he'd cum. Her hair was tangled around her head, her body taken with deep lethargy and the insistent throb of pain. There was also a feeling of utter completion that left her with the sensation of being pleasantly full. Her gaze sought his out. The gold had faded from his eyes, concern taking its place. She smiled at him, reaching out to stroke her hand through the sweat dampened hair around his face. "Are you alright?" he asked her softly.

"I may never walk right again," she grinned at him. "But I'm just fucking fine!"

~*~*~*~*~

Jean Claude watched as Richard escorted Rhiannon back into the living area. Everyone else sat silently, waiting to find out what this last piece of news he had to share was. By this time, Isis had dressed and resumed her seat in the chair she'd taken when she'd first arrived. Damian stood behind her again, his hands resting on her shoulders. Minette had taken her place on the couch between Micah and Nathaniel. Requiem stood behind her, his cloak around his shoulders once more. The silent declaration was not lost on the Master of the City and he wondered when his vampire had decided such a thing.

Rafael and his rats were clustered around one another, back in their corner as if nothing had happened. Richard's wolves stood behind the where their Ulfric had sat. Jason and Stephen sat on the floor before the empty space. Aedan had finally finished putting the rest of her clothes on and stood close by. She'd left her jacket off, the shoulder holster a vivid reminder to their guest that she wasn't going to allow him to disrupt things again.

He felt a sense of power wrapped up in intense pleasure coming toward them. The curtains parted and Rhiannon stepped through. Richard was behind her, a smile spread across his face. The pair of them moved to take their places on the couch. Jean Claude hid the smile that threatened when he watched the way the two of them curled around one another. He allowed a few more moments of silence to build before he spoke. "I realize that you have other things to tend to this night, so I will make this short."

"There's something else going on, Jean Claude?" Micah asked quietly. The vampire turned to regard the smaller man for a heartbeat before nodding his head in the affirmative.

"Oui."

"Is it trouble?" Rafael sat straighter in his chair.

"It is big trouble," Jean Claude replied. "As you know, Anita's place as my human servant and lover sent ripples across the world and drew all eyes to us. Every vampire around the globe was aware of my relationship with her. With her passing, all eyes will be on us once again. This includes the eyes of the Vampire Council."

"What does this mean, Jean Claude?" Augustine asked, a hint of apprehension in his voice. Jean Claude turned to look at him.

"It means that I have been in negotiations with the Council. They are concerned about my ability to control my territory. They are sending representatives to..."

"The Council is coming here?" Augustine interrupted. Jean Claude nodded. "Who are they sending?"

"Padma and Belle Morte will arrive in two night's time," the dark headed vampire informed them all. The room was quiet for several long minutes. Then a single voice broke the stillness.

"Well, shit. There goes the neighborhood," Jason muttered. Jean Claude agreed silently. He couldn't have said it better himself.