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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The tension wasn't completely his fault but his presence hadn't helped there for a little while. Still, it as easing now under his touch and under the hum of anticipation as she worked up to nip at his earlobe.

Peter shivered at the nip, the sensation going straight to his cock. His hands kept up the massaging pressure over her skin, tracing her curves with firm touches, learning the lines of her body.

Lydia caught his earlobe between her teeth again, biting gently before letting go with a slow tug and then pressing a soft kiss below his ear. She was enjoying the feel of his hands on her in the meantime, causing the heat to sink lower till she felt a familiar tingle between her legs.

Curling her fingers under his chin, she turned his head while lifting her own, making brief eye contact as she leaned in to kiss him on the mouth.

Peter growled softly at the bite, though the next shiver that ran over him confirmed it as a growl of pleasure--as did the further hardening of his cock. He moved with her fingers, looking down at her slightly quizzically.

Then her lips were on his and his breath stopped for a moment, time seeming to stop. Silly, perhaps, to invest such a great deal into a meeting of mouths, but he'd refrained from it so carefully all night. All he could think of was the way they'd kissed in her head before she'd realized who he was.

The memory of that moment of realization was not one which he would provoke willingly.

But he was kissing her back anyway, hands sliding up to tangle in her hair and tugging her closer against him.

Despite what had happened in the park, she had needed to be the one to initiate the first kiss because she probably wouldn't have accepted it otherwise. Now she gave a soft sigh of pleasure into the kiss as his hands went to her hair and she moved against him till his back hit the shower wall.

Breaking the kiss long enough to change the angle, she kissed him harder the second time, letting the heat and hunger build till her tongue slipped between his lips and over his tongue. She could feel how hard he was against her stomach and she couldn't resist rubbing against him, shivering as she did.

Peter backed up with her urging, leaning against the cold of the wall and feeling the temperature differences between the water, the tile and her. She was soft against him in all the right places, slick from the shower, which made him think of other slickness. His cock twitched in reaction to that thought, and he bit back a moan.

He rocked his hips into her, matching her rubbing, and he did moan, then. One hand slid back to the small of her back, resting right above the curve of her ass, as his tongue met hers, tangled with it, focused in on that particular dance for now.

He was a lot more built that she could remember but she supposed that was fitting. Either way, she could admit that he looked good and he felt better than that as he slid against her, matching the motion of her hips by rocking against her in a way that made her moan. She could feel his cock bumping against her stomach and she couldn't resist touching him by sliding a hand between their bodies to brush her fingers along the length of him since she hadn't gotten to do so before.

Peter's knees literally went weak when her hand brushed over him. It didn't matter how simple the touch was; she was touching him. Maybe it shouldn't have been so profound, but he shivered from it and moaned low in his throat.

His hips rocked back into her slowly, fingertips trailing down until he could cradle her breast again, lightly circling around it to the peak of her nipple. These touches were softer, gentler than before, too, and that gave them a different level of intimacy, too, he was finding.

But it was profound in its own way as it was a form of acceptance. Even if she hadn't forgiven him, even if she was going to make him work to make it up to her for everything he had done, this was still her accepting him on some level. But it was more than a purely physical level because there was no denying there was something between them and had been since he first forged the link between them that night he tried to change her.

Letting out a sigh against his mouth, she arched against him as he started to touch her in turn, her nipple tightening as his finger swirled around the dusky rose peak. Shifting her hand, she slid her thumb over the tip of his cock, smoothing out the pearl of wetness that was starting to leak from him to mix with the water that covered them both.

That pull back to her had startled him when he first felt it. All he'd done--he'd known what it could let him do, but hadn't exactly thought through the consequences. He'd needed her; he'd used her.

And then he'd wanted her. Alive again and blood flowing through him and the seduction that had been a way past her defenses stayed with him, haunting him the way he'd haunted her. That he'd managed to stay away for as long as he had was probably a miracle.

He groaned against her lips as she continued to touch him, some of that need leaking through with the physical. His hands stroked over her as his mouth left hers and trailed down the column of her throat, kissing and nibbling and catching water-droplets that tasted like her on his tongue.

There were too many questions, too many things to figure out but she didn't want to think about it right now. So she let the physical consume her, letting her mind shut down in a pleasant manner as she let her head fall back so his mouth had easier access to her neck, causing her breath to shudder again as he continued.

She could have stroked him to completion, she had no doubt about that, but she wanted to prolong their inevitable release for a little while longer. So she gave him one last stroke before moving her hand over his hip and around to his ass, gripping and tugging him closer.

The physical was something he could lose himself in easily and if she was focusing there, then so was he. His lips continued their path across her throat, nibbling and nipping, licking now and then. Down her neck, a nip at the join of shoulder and neck, across the line of her collarbone and back up the other side, paying just as much attention. He suckled a little at the skin over her pulse, softly, though, not trying to raise a mark on her skin, no matter how tempting.

He didn't need to mark her--he'd done that two years ago, and her side still bore the faint scars he'd left there. His. Always.

Peter actually whimpered when her hand left him, but he had the heat of her against him again when she pulled him close, and he rocked against her lightly, sliding against her skin as his hands ran over her with more intimate touches in turn.

The attention to the kissing, the fact that he took his time, was heady as most guys she had been with only really focused on kissing on the mouth and very little else. Tipping her head back and then to the side, she moaned at the little nibbles and nips, even the licking now and then, till she arched closer when he suckled at her pulse. It didn't even cross her mind to be worried about him leaving a mark even if she would have scolded him for it again.

She returned the touches then, running her fingers over his back and his sides, caressing even as she learned the lines of his body. She touched, gripped and learned as the steam billowed up around them. Soon her entire body felt like it was on fire, the tingling ache between her thighs nearly unbearable now as she pressed them together and squirmed.

Peter was enjoying learning her, learning the way she responded, the way she liked to be touched. He had age on his side in that, he knew--he was hardly a teenager anymore, but that meant he didn't have the overeagerness of them, either. As he'd already proven once tonight--he was fully capable of making all of this very much about her.

Part of his campaign to make up for her terror.

He moaned appreciatively when she touched him somewhere he particularly liked, happy to let her know what worked for him in turn, but the scent of her growing arousal, the way she squirmed, did not go unnoticed. His lips paused at her ear, nipping at her earlobe delicately. "What do you want me to do?"

He wanted inside of her again, but he so wasn't pushing now, no matter how he had in the park, earlier. There'd been little discussion, no real checking in with her. Now he was.

If he wanted to work hard to make up for the past, Lydia was more than willing to let him at the moment. Especially right now.

But her impatience and need were growing, building into a dangerous mix as she was growing less and less satisfied with just touching and kissing. She noticed then that he was asking what she wanted, that he wasn't pushing, and it caused another flood of heat to rush through her as he was giving her the control again. More than he had in the park.

"Fuck me." She told him then, pulling back long enough to meet and hold his gaze. "Now."

It was the answer he wanted, and there was a flare of that in his eyes, a tiny, approving smirk on his lips.

"As the lady wishes..." Tugging her lightly, his lips met hers, considering his best options, logistically. He wasn't likely to fall, but being separate from the tub, the shower also had less to brace against and supernatural balance and reflexes didn't mean wet tile wasn't occasionally slippery for him.

Instinct kicked in anyway, and he broke the kiss to turn her, urging her to face the wall, close enough to it that the waterfall from the shower wasn't hitting her face, but still coursed between them. His lips trailed to her shoulder, biting lightly as he pressed himself close against her, adjusting her hips just enough that he could slide into her from behind.

She smirked at the approving look he gave her before sliding into his arms again, her hands sliding over his wet chest as he leaned up to kiss him again.

Then she pulled away, giving a breathless laugh as he turned her around. Bracing her hands against the wall, she let her eyes fall closed as his lips moved to her shoulder. Shifting, she tipped her hips at his urging, making it easier for their bodies to line up and then there was no holding back the low groan of pleasure as he slid into her finally. Clenching around him with a shudder, she reached back with her free hand to grip his hip, urging him with a press of her nails to move.

Peter was happy to oblige, hips rolling as he pressed deeper into her, retreated, and slid in again. She was hot and tight around him; so damn wet he had to groan against her skin. His eyes fell closed as he moved. Teeth dragging over her shoulder, he gave into the sensation, pushing thought aside and jst feeling. It was simple, easy, none of the issues that otherwise plagued them.

His hand slid around, trailing over her stomach, hen lower to part her and tease a fingertip over her clit.

Yes, this was definitely easier. The press and slide of their bodies was intoxicating as she let out another low moan. Rocking back against him to meet his thrusts, she let the rhythm consume her as she clenched around him every time he pressed deep, the drag of friction causing her to pant a little more.

Then the feel of his finger over her clit had her gasping with a shudder, the pulse and the growing need to come intensifying. "Fuck fuck fuck..." Her hand slid against the wall like she was looking for something to hold onto.

He had to chuckle at the cursing, the need behind it. Each clench of her body around him was hard enough to resist, urging him higher and harder and he increased the pressure of his thrusts in reaction. He nipped harder, almost certainly leaving a mark at the join of her neck and shoulder and circled his finger around her more deliberately.

All of it, even the nip on her shoulder, drove her further and faster towards the edge. It wasn't long till she was gasping and moaning with each thrust, her eyes clenched closed as she rocked back against him, shuddering. Her skin felt too tight for her frame as the pressure continued to build to the point of exploding.

She cried out his name then, surprising herself though it didn't matter a second later as her release swept over her and pulled her under.

As Lydia met him, Peter sped up, the heat between them almost making the water seem cool, though it hadn't truly dropped in temperature. Her abandonment increased his own, and he gave himself over to it completely. It was almost a shock to feel her coming while at the same time being the most obvious thing--what this was leading to, as it were,

His fingers tightened on her and his teeth scored over her instinctively as his name bounced off the tile and back to him. With a moan and a final hard thrust, he came, spilling into her in pulses and little jerks of his hips.

It had been a long time since she had felt any sort of loss of control. The complete abandonment was stunning, enough to make her shudder again as his teeth scored over her skin and left her vibrating as the lingering waves of her release continued to roll through her till she was sure she would collapse if he wasn't holding her up.

Peter was glad he hadn't pressed her against the wall the way he had the statue, as his knees weren't all that steady, really. He was staying up and could do the same for her, but if he'd had her in his arms...

He shuddered in response to each clench of her muscles, each shiver over her skin. His lips replaced his teeth, though, moving over her skin with delicate precision, tracing the marks starting to show already, pale as she was.

Panting softly, Lydia tipped her head back against his as he pressed his lips to her skin, raising a wash of tingles as he traced the marks she was starting to feel.

"Are we done in here?" She asked softly, not wanting to admit out loud that she couldn't stand for much longer but that didn't make it any less true.

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

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