| Blood? Isn't that a little... She did do it last night... he
did let her do it last night. Oooh, those hands feel good. Harold's hands follow
the curve of Carver's back, slowly sliding down her dress and over the gentle
rise of her rear, marveling over the feeling of nothing being between their skins
except the thin dress. No panties... it's Eufiber, who cares?
Hell with
it; he needs her, she needs him. His fingers slowly clench the lower part of her
dress as he shifts from her ear to her neck, "Just a little to start... can't
get carried away..." Worse comes to worse he could shift, get some instincts
that are more comfortable with it. He suddenly leans his head back and pulls her
dress up and over her head - God, that body is divine! - and
he drops it on the floor while yanking her close again, "Only so much...
I think we both want to be conscious for this..." * * * His clothes press against her aroused body, burning sensations
along the entire length of her body. He'll give me blood? the cold voice whimpers.
"Not yet," Carver
whispers to Harry, putting her lips near his ear. "I want you inside me this
time." All this yanking around is only arousing her more. She didn't now
that Harry could be so forceful - it's exciting. She heatedly kisses him, wantonly
pressing herself against him.
But pressing against his clothed body isn't
enough, not when she can remember what that body feels like against hers - and
she can feel his readiness for her. She steps away long enough to pull his shirt
over his head.
The pants are her next target. She undoes his button
and the fly, then kneels to push them down. He hovers in front of her
face, and Carver wraps her mouth around him. Rather than encourage him to step
out of the pants, she grabs his ass with both hands and uses that grip to pull
him in deeper as her tongue begins to work over his sensitive skin.
* * * Now that wasn't expected. Harold's head reflexively snaps back
into the door, any possibility of pain chased away by the sensations Carver is
subjecting him to, and his body shudders under her eager motions. It's not the
same as being in her but it sure feels incredible. Last time he was trying to
focus on her, this time he's keenly aware of every little thing her lips and tongue
do across his length.
Knees twitch, on the verge of buckling, and his
shoulders press hard into the door to keep his body upright. "Oh God, Carver,"
he murmurs through deepening breaths, "You're gonna..." He still wants
her - burns for her - but this feels so good. She can feel his muscles flex hard
under her fingers and his hands reach down to her shoulders, madly trying to maintain
some kind of contact with her. * * * She can't believe it - doing this is getting her hotter. He's
barely touching her; it's the knowledge that he's enjoying this so much that is
setting her on a fast boil.
One of her hands joins her mouth, while the
other slides to his testicles, giving them individual attention. Carver adds another
twist by humming softly as she works, adding a new sensation to the building tension.
Harry groans her name again as her head begins a steady, rhythmic bob. His
hands dig gently into her hair, tangling themselves in her silky locks. Too soon
from Harry's point of view, his head snaps back, thudding against the door again,
but neither notices. Both of their attentions are focused on the same thing; on
the dizzying wave of pleasure that is sweeping over Harry and on the satisfaction
that Carver is gaining from her ministrations.
* * * This is going to be too much. She's got him so worked up he can
barely think anymore. Harold groans in time with Carver's bobs and his hips start
to move on their own. Why does she have to be so good at bringing him pleasure?
Why does she have to know his body so well?
His body quakes under her
attention, hungry - starving for everything she's giving him. He wants to pick
her up and be inside of her right against the wall... he wants her to bring him
over the edge while she's down on her knees. "Oh God," he moans again,
voice heavy with desire, "I want you now..." * * * The salty, fleshy taste, his desperate pants and moans - this
is wonderful and Carver doesn't want it to end. Sure, she isn't getting anything
out of it in the traditional sense, but the clear pleasure that he's receiving
makes it so worth it to her.
"Oh God," he moans again, voice
heavy with desire, "I want you now..." Carver feels her loins twitch
and tremble in sympathetic pleasure. She moans a little, deepening her hum for
a moment and Harry gasps in response to the sensation.
But all things
must end, and too quickly for either of them, Harry's body contracts. Carver keeps
her mind on what she's doing, but she also watches him, deriving enjoyment from
the reaction of his body - a reaction she is driving forward with hands and mouth.
And then she has no time for thought; she has to focus on Harry, on the fluids
he's giving her, on swallowing those fluids without loosing a drop. Her fingernails
lightly score his hips as she grips him, holding him deep in her mouth as his
tremors roar through him and slowly subside.
Once she's released him,
Carver remains on her knees. She rests her head against his thigh and looks up
his body, wondering what he's going to do to her now...
* * * She could keep on doing this forever and he'd be ecstatic. Bringing
him up, taking him over the edge, and building all back up again to do it again.
Harold tips his head forward again and looks down to meet Carver's own gaze. She's
pleased... weird, she did all the work and he got all of the benefit.
But it's her turn now... she gave and she needs a chance to receive. Use the wall
later, get her ready first. A lusty and devilish grin crosses his face and he
slowly crouches down to her. Hands follow those sensuous lines of her body, sliding
over shoulders, back, nipples, and waist before reaching her hips as he comes
to her on the floor and whispers into her ear, "I'm so getting you for that."
Yea, she's too good for the floor... she needs to be comfortable, not in pain.
Without warning, Harold lifts Carver off the floor, cradling her body by
holding her hips near his and her arms and legs snap around him. God, she feels
so hot down there... this is going to make him all ready to go again in seconds
and it'd feel so good to... no, bring her to his point first. Then satisfy both
of their urges.
He carries her over to the bed with an ease that betrays
the wiry strength in his frame and he sets her down just on the edge of the bed.
Not yet... they could right now but he wants to hear her moan too. Feet
still firmly planted on the floor, Harold guides Carver's body backwards to lie
on the bed, hands searching her smooth skin while lips and tongue play across
her collarbone. Slowly, he works his way down her body - God,
he could stay on her breasts all day - savoring the taste of her skin again. Soon
enough, his knees are on the floor at the edge of the bed, gently kissing the
inside of her right thigh, slowly working inward as his fingers start to tease
her of what's coming. * * * It feels incredible to be treated so abruptly, to be snatched
up and carried. It's like if he can't make himself be patient, like he wants her
that badly. He's like another person here with her - that shy "fish-out-of-water"
is replaced at a confident, eager man.
He lays her across the bed, working
his hands and mouth slowly over her body, slowly driving her mad. His downward
travel stops at her thigh as he carefully works his way back up. His fingers are
already there, teasing and tormenting, making her gasp. His mouth begins a slow,
gradual path to join his fingers; her fingers slide into his hair, caressing him.
At the first hot, wet touch on her already burning skin, she moans, "Harry,
oh, god, thank you... this is so good..."
* * * No wonder she looked so content before: the very sound of her
moans runs a shiver down his spine. Harold slowly finishes his path to the base
of Carver's thigh, short hair tickling his nose as he watches her wait a few beats
in anticipation. People supposedly always complain, but the smell of her isn't
bad at all... in fact, the memory of that scent combined with it being here and
now makes his head swim with desire.
He takes a slow, shallow taste of
her first, feeling her hot and moist lips slowly spread open under his tongue
and he can her moan, "Harry, oh, god, thank you... this is so good..."
Oh yes, he can definitely see why she enjoyed what she did to him earlier. One
set of fingers slide along her slick and tender skin, tracing the outline of her
entrance, and the other reach up to explore the rest of her body, finding those
familiar and still yet to be found places as his tongue finishes reaching into
her and begins to lazily spiral towards that little nub that drives her so wild.
Hmmm... the humming worked for her, maybe it'll work for him... * * * Harry has proven to be an innovative lover, so it shouldn't have
surprised her when he turned the tables on her again. The humming reaches through
every part of her body; Carver's back bows and her toes curl.
"Oh
god!" she cries, a shudder running through her body. Pleasure washes over
her like a storm surge, rocketing toward climax. What Harry's doing feels so go
- too good, Carver realizes as the pleasurre explodes over her. She cries out loud,
a wordless exclamation of purest pleasure.
The orgasm finally left her
limp and exhausted on the bed. "Harry," she whispers, stroking her fingers
through his hair, "You're wonderful."
* * * The sound of her cry, the feel of her body clenching under his
strokes, all of it stirred him down to the core. If he wasn't already refreshed
her climax surely made him ache for her now. Harold slowly rises back up, rubbing
his bare skin against Carver's as he passes over her, and grins when his lips
are mere inches apart, "Thank you... but I think we're just getting started."
Harold kisses her, chasing her with a reinvigorated drive, while he nudges
into her to start teasing her like the night before. Take it easy... never hurts
to ask her. Slipping down to wait at her entrance, he breaks the kiss long enough
to ask, "Are you ready?"
Desperation fills Carver's retreating
voice, "Oh, god, yes..." He smiles and slowly slides into her, wondering
why he could ever stop doing this with her.
Her breath catches as he
pulls her hips closer, then wraps his arms around her as he stands up, letting
gravity settle her fully onto and around him. Harold pauses for a moment, catching
Carver's gaze with real concern on his, "Is this okay?" * * * Cradled in his arms, but pierced to the core... how could it
not be ok? "I'm fine," she gasps. "You?"
"Oh,
yes," Harry gasps, which he repeats when Carver wraps her legs higher on
his waist, allowing him more access to her. "Oh, yes!"
His arms tighten around her as he begins to lift and lower her in a steady rhythmic
movement. Carver's eyes roll back in her head as the pleasure begins to build
deep inside. "Harry, Harry," she moans in his ear, making his knees
feel a little weak.
That's what walls are for, and he carefully situates
her against the nearest one, earning a groan of pleasure as she enjoys the sensation
of being pinned between the hard surface and the firm Harry. From there, it is
much easier to for him to pick up and maintain a steady speed.
Carver whimpers in ecstasy; tightening her hips, she helps raise and lower her
own body, sending them upwards together on a new pattern of thrusts and withdrawals.
A wave of pleasure washes over her – not quite an orgasm, but still very nice.
But the next rise in pleasure threatens to be more...
* * * Oh, this feels so right, pressed so tightly together with her
and hearing those whimpers only make him want to hear more. Harold's fingers slowly
press into Carver's rear, helping to keep their steady rhythm while keeping that
wondrous body close to his. It's yet another different position but, again, it's
a good kind of different. No wonder some people never leave the house...
His pace slowly starts to build, being unconsciously set by his body's wanton
desire for more of her. She's steady like this... he might have some room to move...
Hands slide up her body again, moving slowly enough to ensure she's steady upon
him but still searching for every possible way to make her moans grow louder and
louder. "Oh God, Carver," he murmurs in her ear while looking to pull
even more moans out with his teeth and tongue, "You feel.... so a.... mazing..."
* * * "You're - gasp - pretty good yourself," Carver
whispers in his ear. "Oh, Harry, don't stop, please don't stop." Since
his ear is right there, Carver pulls the lobe in, nibbling his skin. She can taste
his skin, and underneath that, his blood. Blood... he's inside you now...
Carver has restrained herself up to this point; now she has no reason to
wait any longer. Her claws are ready instantly, as always. Just the tiniest, shallowest
cut she can manage... More of a prick than a cut...
The blood welled
on his neck and Carver quickly sealed her lips over it, drinking hungrily. The
hot, salty taste is all Harry, all Mythic, all fire and magic. This is why
I like it, Carver dimly realizes through the pleasure, because in their
blood, you can taste the core of the person. You can taste who they are... you
can almost taste their desires, their dreams...
He's plunging into
her madly, his hands and mouth making contact with all the responsive spots on
her body. His blood flows into her mouth as easy as his body thrusts into her
body. It warms her mouth and throat as quickly as his hands warm the exposed parts
of her body. All together, they raise her pleasure to the breaking point, and
soon, Carver's head hits the wall as she screams her pleasure and Harry feels
her clench and quiver around him.
* * * She's incredible, every last inch of her. Was that a...? Never
mind, she's his for one more night. Harold drives hard into Carver, heedless of
her sucking at his essence. Her skin tastes like salt from their sweat, her body
feels silky under his fingers, and her loins feel like sweet fire around him.
The pleasure mounting in Carver soon overtakes Harold as well, driving his
mind into a dizzying state. She's completely engrossed in the moment, oblivious
to everything else around, and that almost drives his eyes into the back of his
head with ecstasy. His body quakes with her scream, hands shooting back to her
hips to pull her as close as possible, and his orgasm leaves him shuddering deep
inside of her.
Chest heaving, Harold spreads his legs just a bit more
to better hold them up and tries to regain his breath. Why is his neck stinging?
Oh, right, that. He lets out a low but quick grunt as the shallow slice seals
shut and his blood thickens back to normal. Bring his head back, he takes a close
look at her panting almost in time with him, seeing her blood-stained teeth and
lips. Maybe he should be running away, but for some reason he's okay with this.
Yea, it's creepy and quite possibly dangerous but it's her. No matter what, it's
apart of who she is and somehow that sits alright with
him. Think about it later.
Harold smiles lazily at Carver, holding up
a hand so he can point at his lip, "You, uh... you got a little somethin'
there..." * * * Carver's got her head resting against the wall when Harry makes
his little joke. Carver laughs lightly. "Would you like to clean me up?"
"Just making light of the situation," Harry says with that same
lazy smile.
He was ok with this? "You want to try?" Carver
murmurs. "Turn about is fair play." Her hand strokes the back of his
head with gentle fingers.
"I thought you didn't heal that fast,"
Harry replies, his own hands running over her.
"The pain would be
worth it," Carver murmurs, "if you would enjoy it as much as I just
did." She licks the last bit of blood off his skin and her lips. "It's
incredibly intimate." Her eyes sparkle as she asks, "Interested?"
* * * Blood? She seems to love doing it, to the point of it being a
fault. Heck, everything she's wanted to try with him has been amazing. Harold's
brow furrows for a moment in thought before he raises an eyebrow, "It's
better in the moment, right?"
"Oh, yes," Carver answers
immediately with an enthusiastic nod, "Very much better." Wow, she really
does like this.
They're going to put a hole in the wall if they're not
careful. Harold carefully swings their bodies from the wall, fully turning them
around once, and falling backwards onto the bed with Carver now on top of him.
She looks so relaxed, so much more open than ever, and he can feel the warm smile
already spreading over his face. His arms stay wrapped loosely around her body,
keeping her close to him, "I'll do the cutting when the time comes; just
let me know where and if you need a warning. Otherwise... yea, I suppose I can
give it a shot." * * * "No warning," Carver whispers. "It's part of the
fun. I mean I'll know you'll do it, and you have permission, but when the moment
is right, you'll know when and where."
He's still so firm inside
of her and Carver doesn't waste time. She begins to slowly rock back and forth,
setting a slow, building tempo. She sets an easy pace, letting Harry's body and
reactions tell her when to speed up or slow down.
And she enjoys the
ride and waits for him to take his taste...
* * * Ooohhh... this is very nice, very nice indeed. He's not moving
very much in her but that small motion is certainly potent. Harold's hands run
up her body, delighting in the smooth feeling of her flesh, and finally cupping
around her breasts. He hasn't paid as much attention as he should have to them
over the two nights and now is a perfect time. Besides, it's a good distraction
and... well, the very touch of them is electrifying.
Slowly their pace builds; low moans and quiet whimpers detailing the escalation.
Harold can feel Carver's hot breath on him as she follows his reactions, that
slight waver in her breathing letting him know she's gradually losing herself
in pleasure. Finally, his hands slip away from her breasts, any disappointment
in her over that shift is chased away as he searches her again for other places
to please her.
She said the right time would show up... God, she's almost
lost into it now, it's intoxicating. Wait, some way to reach her, just the tiniest
bit. His body undergoes a very subtle and silent shift and a sharp claw slowly
extends from his fingertip just near her shoulder as the blood rushing just beneath
her skin suddenly cries out to him. Yes, she was right: now is the time.
Just the smallest prick and not on that thick vein... ah, yes right there. The
tip of his finger quickly pokes her skin, leaving a red dot behind while her heavy
breathing doesn't even change pace. In the back of his mind an alien instinct
howls in anticipation and he reaches up with his lips to attack that slowly growing
red dot.
It tastes like hot metallic fire in his mouth, satisfying and
urging on that strange instinct at the same time. Carver gasps at the sudden feeling
of him drinking from her neck, her body quickly clenching around him before her
pace turns more and more frantic. He slowly nurses the wound; testing the taste
of her while he can feel her heart pound harder and harder.
Of course
she likes this... that strange instinct normally isn't within him, but if she
lives with this all the time then no wonder why she wants it so. Don't suck too
hard or drink too much: she can't regenerate... just go slow. It's like she's
in the palm of his hand, bearing down on him harder and harder while giving him
the sweetest and most intimate taste of her he could ever have... No, this isn't
an every night sort of thing, but it can be a good thing. * * * The slight pain is an anticipated surprise and is barely felt.
Carver doesn't even acknowledge it as she continues to ride Harry.
But
she has to acknowledge the sensation when he drinks from her. That first loss
of blood makes her gasp and brings tears to her eyes - he's doing it to her, and
she doesn't feel so strange and freakish anymore. And judging by his reactions,
he's enjoying it too.
Carver picks up the pace, her heartbeat setting
the tempo. He's drinking the most intimate part of her, and Carver whimpers from
the shared joy - having received, she now gives.
When he's finally has
his fill and slowly lifts his head, Carver grabs his head and hungrily kisses
him, exalting in the taste of her blood on his mouth. It is her and him, mixed
together on his sweet, sweet lips.
* * * It's incredible, the intensity and her total embrace of the situation.
Harold returned Carver's passionate kiss, straining to mingle what's left of him
in her mouth with the taste of hers that's in his. Why doesn't this seem strange?
Wouldn't a sane person run in fear?
Who cares; this sex is mind-blowing.
Hands reach to grip her hips, urging her on as his body lifts up to meet hers
in time. "Faster," he whispers to her when their red lips part for air,
"Don't hold back." |