work_inprogress | When you came in the air went out (for wantadistraction)

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When you came in the air went out (for wantadistraction)

New Orleans was vibrant and alive--admittedly with problematic elements, like all the dead things walking around undead. Peter had watched them for his first few nights in the Quarter and caught a few of them watching back. They hadn't made any moves toward him though, either considering him not a threat or not knowing what to make of him. If they weren't going to bother him, then he resolved to not bother them, either.

There weren't any other wolves, though, and he wasn't sure if that was good--no one to challenge or treat with over territory--or bad--where were they? Granted, it was a big city, and wolves traditionally liked to live closer to somewhere they could easily run, and for the moment he'd filed it away as that and been grateful. Since he intended to stay for a while, making nice in someone else's territory would have been awkward.

Better to just claim it as his own.

He bought a house in the Garden District, with enough trees around it for privacy, and a certain mysterious charm, wanting to be close to the Quarter, but not right in the midst of the noise. Besides--the Garden District was where Tulane was. And Tulane?

Well, that was where Lydia was.

By careful observation, he'd worked out most of her schedule, knew which dorm she was in, which room, which window. The campus was lovely with lots of shaded areas and overhanging trees and he'd managed to find a bench under one with a perfect view--if you had a wolf's vision. Jeans, a broken in blazer and a leather messenger bag and anyone catching him reading there figured he was a professor. At night, he found it easy to blend in to the shadows, watching until she closed her blinds.

He didn't spend every night there, of course. Really. Just enough to know she was all right, that no one was bothering her. Enough to snarl at every boy who walked her home or he suspected of doing more. Interestingly...a couple of them seemed to drop out of school, disappear, shortly after any such encounter. Not that he had anything to do with that. Really.

She was his. He'd marked her, chosen her, bonded with her. He'd only been waiting for her to grow up before coming to claim her.

Now she had; and here he was.

He hadn't approached her, yet. The perfect time hadn't come. But he'd been in her room, breathing in her scent, leaving his though only another wolf or one of the dead things would catch it, know she belonged to someone. He never took anything, but he left a long stem rose on her pillow each visit. Blood red, thorns still on. He came at different times, always careful to vary them, to stick to the shadows in case she'd left a camera running. Usually he did it when she was out, but once he'd slipped in, leaving it for her while she showered, and another morning she would have awakened to it next to her, like a token from a lover.

Which it was.

Tonight, she'd gone down to the Quarter with friends, and Peter followed. Watched the boys who bought her drinks, watched her dancing, laughing, followed her along crowded streets. Eventually she'd separate from the pack, and he'd follow, then, too.

He was tired of waiting.

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His teeth gently scraped over her inner thigh. "Such a complicated question, sweetheart. For tonight? More of those pleading little sounds. You wrapped around me, at some point. To make you come harder than you ever have before, screaming my name."

His tongue flicked over her another time, as he looked up at her.

Her eyes narrowed at him even as the muscles in her thigh twitched and her breath stilled at the flick of his tongue again. "What makes you so sure you can?"

Peter gave her a look that said how cute she was.

"Because up til now you've only had boys in your bed."

Lydia knew it was reckless to challenge him in any sort of way but, in her mind, he deserved it. She wasn't going to crumble easily at his feet or beg. He had nearly broken her once and he wouldn't do it again, not even like this.

So she scoffed. "You're not the first one to give me that line." She let go of her skirt, letting it fall bank into place so it would purposefully land on his face.

He chuckled a little, letting her skirt hit him before nipping her thigh more sharply. He sucked away the sting, but there was definitely going to be a mark there. The challenge wasn't something he minded, but it did trigger an answering response.

He pushed her skirt back up, holding it with one hand before slipping the fingers of his other back in her oh-so-slowly, letting his thumb circle over her clit lazily.

"Maybe not. But I'm the first who can fully back it up."

Damn him.

That was all she could really think when his slid his fingers into her again, clenching around his fingers with a soft shuddering moan as he started tortruring her all over again. The feel of his thumb over her clit set off sparks and heat as she tipped her head back again.

"I guess we'll see, won't we?" She couldn't resist.

Her moan was somehow even more delicious this time, and he found himself smirking a little as he pressed deeper inside of her, the rhythm slow and lazy, meant to raise her to the edge, keep her there.

He leaned back in, the hand holding her skirt pressing firmly against her as he captured her clit between his lips, tongue flicking over it, then circling, then sucking, only letting it fall into a rhythm briefly, then backing off from it, then doing it all over again.

It was interesting wanting to come and wanting to punch him all at the same time because hitting him was exactly what she was thinking about at the moment as he took her further, closer to the edge, before pulling her back again.

It was all consuming, washing away the ability to think as the physical took over once more, leaving her breathless and panting, sometimes whining, as she yanked at his hair. She pulled him closer and then she was trying to pull his head back, her eyes dark and stormy as she glared at him again. "I swear to God, Peter..."

She was brilliant, amazing, and torturing her was more fun than he'd had in quite some time. His own arousal was secondary--there and aching, but so ultimately unimportant. Her tug and glare had him easing back, shooting her a devilish look, all dark charm.

"Yes?"

He turned his head to nip on her other thigh, leaving another mark.

"I swear I am seconds away from punching you in the throat." She muttered, unwittingly echoing the threat she had made to the younger version in her head long ago.

She gasped and then actually punched him in the arm. "Stop that or I'm not going to be able to wear half of my outfits tomorrow."

"I suppose I could go higher up..." His fingers trailed over her as he gave her that wicked smirk again.

"Now...why would you want to punch me in the throat, when I'm here on my knees before you?"

She ignored the comment about going up higher, tightening her fingers in his hair to tip his head back again. "Because....you're not letting me come."

"Would you like to?" He let her fingers tug his head back, looking up at her, while his own fingers wandered through her folds, circled her clit, then slid back to press deep inside of her again.

She bit back another whimper as he touched her again, causing her hips to buck against his hand as she curled forward slightly when her knees threatened to give out on her. "Yes." She gasped it then, looking at him. "I would."

One fingertip dragged slowly over her, pressing against her clit for a moment before trailing up through her curls. "How badly?"

She closed her eyes then, telling herself that she hated him in that moment. More than she had ever hated him before.

"It feels like I can't breathe anymore." She murmured huskily. "And like I'm going to pass out at any moment. It almost hurts, I want it so badly."

For a heartbeat, two, he thought about making her say please, but that wasn't something he wanted to force. When she said it, he wanted it to be because she couldn't not, because of something in her that wanted him as badly as release.

"As you wish," he murmured.

His mouth moved back to her, and his fingers slid back into her. He didn't hit hard and fast, though, but started slowly. He built the pace, though, his rhythm a steady and sure combination of tongue, lips and fingers intent on having all of her.

She sucked in a soft breath once more, feeling almost dizzy with the changing levels of oxygen as she sucked her bottom lip in between her teeth, biting down as she watched him till she couldn't anymore. She made a faint noise, almost like a sobbing moan, as he started to build the intensity and the pleasure again,

The combination, everything he was doing, was so achingly perfect and she could only admit to herself that no one had ever gone down on her like that before. It had always been hurried and clumsy at times. Even those that had been somewhat good couldn't even compare at this very moment in time.

Not that she planned on ever telling him but her body and her reactions pretty much gave her away. Pulling at his hair when she got closer, she sought more friction. "Please...right there...finger me." She murmured, the noises growing a little more high pitched as she got so close...so close....

He didn't stop this time, following direction instead. His fingers hit the "right there" more firmly, his mouth moving against her untiringly. She said please, and he moaned against her, a shudder running over him. The whole world narrowed to her--her taste, her scent, how silky wet, hot and tight she felt. The sounds of those noises as she gave herself up to what he was doing...

Another shudder, and he added just that touch of suction back, capturing her clit rather than just running over it. Still gentle, delicate, but a rhythm there, too, that alternated with his fingers as his gaze slid back to her face, wanting to see along with how overwhelmed every other sense was.

Her nails pressed and scraped gently over his scalp as she scrambled for an anchor, her breath coming in quicker and sharper along with the soft noises she made. Then the actual suction on her clit combined with his fingers was finally enough to take her to the edge and then shove her over.

Coming with a shuddering cry, she clenched and trembled around his fingers, arching as her release flooded through her and over his fingers.

Peter hummed his pleasure in hers over her skin, shivering a little as she trembled around his fingers, under his lips. His movements slowed, but didn't stop. Lazily, he continued to lick her with long strokes of his tongue and clear enjoyment. His fingers slid out of her to brush back and forth over her leg until her trembling slowed.

Easing back, he rested his forehead on her thigh, fighting an internal war. Leave or stay? He'd invaded her mind and soul--body in some ways, too--before, and this could just be a...peace offering. But he'd waited for her for nearly two years, now. He was hard, aching in his jeans.

And Peter had always been selfish.

His tongue flicked over her again while he undid his jeans, pulled himself free. When he stood in a fluid movement he stayed between her legs, lifting her with him, settling her at his waist, before positioning himself and sliding into her quickly enough to make it seem like one seamless movement accompanied by a shudder and a moan.

Lydia was torn as well with pushing him away when it got a little too intense and with pulling him closer to let him take her up over again. She was shaking now as she leaned against the statue, unsure of whether she could really stand or not.

Looking down at him, she wondered at what was going through his mind and what she wanted to happen. Logically she shouldn't have let anything else happen but her body was burning with the need for more. Yearning for him and the promise to fill her.

Then he was rising up like a dark god and suddenly she didn't care again. Wrapping her arms and legs instinctively around him, she held her breath as he slid into her then, filling and stretching her so completely that she had to let out the air with a shuddering sigh and a murmur to whatever deity was listening.

Her potential urge to push him away had barely occurred to him. As she wrapped herself around him, took him in with that little murmur, any moments of doubt he'd had were completely gone. He slid his hands to cradle her ass, keeping her against him. Pressing her more firmly against the statue to brace her, as well, he just held himself inside of her for a few moments, feeling her around him, against him.

Another shiver ran over his skin as he savored just being inside of her. His gaze slid to her face, watching her as he eased back, then slid back into her, as slowly and lazily as he'd started with licking her: savoring her, moving as if they had all the time in the world.

Despite the lazy way he had brought her to release with his mouth, she had anticipated anything but the way he was thrusting into her now. Hard and fast was what she had been expecting as this was enough to steal her breath again, feeling more intimate than it should have as she rocked her hips to meet his.

She watched his face for a moment or two then, the look on his face as he savored it almost unsettling until she finally pressed her face against his neck, not really thinking about how that was rather intimate in itself. Her breath was hot and damp against his skin as they moved together, her one hand pressing into his shoulder as she let out a little moan.

He'd wanted her, wanted this, for so damn long...he couldn't remember when he hadn't. Sometimes he thought maybe he'd dreamed her in those years caught in his own head. He'd been caught in hers--maybe they blurred. They'd been inside each other a while, now. This, now...it was just a completion of that, in his mind.

And he wanted it to be good.

When she looked away from him, he let on hand trail upward into her hair, tangling lightly there. turning his head, he nuzzled at her temple, her curls. He'd done that, too, before, in her head. It hadn't been so pleasant, then, but she smelled just like he remembered, under the scents of the city and sex.

His hips kept the slow pace, even when he wanted to move harder, faster. He'd been rough, hurt her before, physically and mentally, and he didn't want to start this new chapter like that. He needed it to be different, to show her he could be, for her, with her. He moaned as pleasure burned through him.

"God, you feel amazing...so fucking good."

When you came in the air went out (for wantadistraction)

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