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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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."

Lydia had always known he wanted something from her but she had always figured it came down to wanting her to resurrect him even if there had been some potentially sexual overtones at times. It was all rather clear now though.

Shivering as his hand slid into her hair, her lips parted to brush against his neck, another moan escaping her as he continued to move against her. She could smell him, his scent wrapping around her and she marveled at how he could smell so natural even under the hint of his cologne. He smelled like the wild.

Sliding her hand up into his hair, she curled her fingers against the back of his head, holding tight as she clenched around him every time he pushed deep, adding more friction.

The tuck of her into his neck, her warm breath over his skin, the clench of her around him...Peter let everything else slide away and lost himself in this, here, now. Turning his head just a bit more, his teeth caught the shell of her ear, nibbling lightly.

Need finally drove him to speed up a little, but he was still more gentle than not. His hand gripped her ass tighter, fingers sliding over her cheeks, between them, teasing her there, too. A low moan caught in his throat, then another, until they escaped in soft grunts each time he moved into her.

She made a soft noise as he nipped at her earlobe, her eyelashes fluttering as her fingers tightened briefly in his hair.

The need had consumed her as well, sweeping over her and dragging her under again. She tensed though when she felt his fingers sliding over her cheeks and in between, teasing against her where she had never let anyone go before. Tipping her head just enough to bring her mouth fully to his neck, she bit him then, partially in warning and partially just because she wanted to. It wasn't a hard bite but there was a sting to it.

Peter hissed at the bite, a soft growl forming in his throat, rumbling through his chest. Possibly a partial warning of his own--or approval of the sting.

Most likely a bit of both.

He noted the tensing, and didn't push her any farther, though he kept touching, kept teasing, refused to back away from that, either. His hips moved harder, as well, letting need and the spike of pain and the edge of...transgression catch up to him.

Really, she didn't care if it had been a possible warning or not because it wouldn't have stopped her. He would never control her so easily ever again.

She had to tip her head back then, panting like she was trying to catch her breath though it was nearly impossible. The position they were in kept her pinned against the statue while pulling him down on his thrusts, never quite letting her escape the sharp edge of pleasure with a tiny hint of pain underneath it all from being over sensitive from all the teasing before.

But she could feel the pleasure building all the same, stunning her that she could already want to come again so soon.

Peter liked the spark of defiance--he always knew she was so strong, and seeing it now made him weirdly proud. It hinted at some very interesting times to come.

With a groan, he felt pleasure spiraling upward tightening his core, making his breath come faster. Everything became about the pleasure, hers, his, theirs together, what their bodies could do to each other. He ducked his head to nip at her jaw, down to her neck in turn, teeth latching on lightly as he dug his fingers more into her and his thrusts lost their smooth rhythm, starting to become a bit more desperate.

The desperation fueled her own as everything twisted up inside of her, building again to a near frenzied pitch as she knew she was so close once more but she wanted him to go over first. "Please please..." She started to whimper, her nails pressing into the back of his neck where she had a hand in his hair again.

Those were words he'd waited for, wanted, but hadn't been willing to demand. Given freely, they broke him. His hips sped up just a bit more, and then he cried out, the sound hoarse and yet sharp in the night air. His body shuddered, hips bucking against her as he pressed as deep as he could and spilled into her.

Teh soft noises she made rose in pitch as he moved faster and it wasn't long before she was chasing him over the edge, clenching and crying out as she came with him. Despite having come already, the release was long and hard, ripping through her as she tightened her thighs around his hips, clinging until she went slack against him with a shudder.

Her release prolonged his, milking him til he was spent, trembling a little against her. His heart was racing, breath uneven, and he rested his forehead against her temple, just holding her until he felt steady enough to disentangle himself, ease back from her, set her down gently. Stepping back a bit as he did his pants back up, Peter's gaze was intent on her face, though he was silent, for the moment.

Her head was still spinning by the time he eased back to set her down on her own two feet and she watched him, almost warily, as he stepped back to do up his pants while watching her face. Licking her lips, she pushed her skirt back down into place, smoothing it over so she didn't look so completely mussed.

"Well then..." She murmured, her voice still holding a note of huskiness.

His look was almost as wary, watching her. The scent of sex in the air--him, her, mingling the way they were--had him wanting to linger, to reach for her and breathe her in. He did reach out, brushing her hair slowly back, smoothing it down.

His hand dropped away slowly and he took another step back. "Let me get you a cab."

Clearly he didn't know what to say, now.

And again, whatever she was expecting, that wasn't it and she was blinking at him again as he brushed some hair back from her face.

"So now you're dismissing me?" She asked, surprising herself with the hint of defensiveness in her tone.

"What?" Peter looked bemused and shook his head. "No! I just thought..."

She might want to run away. Or needed time to process. Or to want a shower. Or freak out.

God, he didn't know what people did after sex in a park after a past like theirs, okay? Or after sex in a park at all, for that matter.

"I thought you might...want me to go."

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

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