Fic: Chill Factor (Blade: Trinity, Abigail Whistler/Hannibal King, NC-17)

[alyse]

Title: Chill Factor
Author:
alyse
Fandom: Blade: Trinity
Pairing: Abigail Whistler/Hannibal King
Rating: NC17
Warnings/Spoilers: No warnings, no spoilers. Set pre movie
Genres: Established relationship
Word Count: 4,400
Status: Complete, one shot
Disclaimer: Blade: Trinity, the motion picture, is owned by New Line Cinema. This is a not for profit fanfiction, and no copyright infringement is intended.
Author's Notes: Thanks to
aithine for beta reading duties. Any mistakes remaining are my own.

Summary: She eyed King darkly from the doorway, shivering as she took in the way he'd sprawled across her bunk, his long, lean body occupying way more than his fair share. He'd stolen all of the covers, of course, the bastard. As far as she was concerned, he deserved everything he was about to get.

-o-

By the time that Abby had finally managed to wash away the blood and grime of that night's hunt - time spent untangling her hair from the matted mess left by hitting the ground repeatedly and trying to pound some heat back into her cold, aching muscles - King was already fast asleep.

In her bed.

She eyed him darkly from the doorway, shivering as she took in the way he'd sprawled across her bunk, his long, lean body occupying way more than his fair share.

He'd stolen all of the covers, of course, the bastard. As far as she was concerned, he deserved everything he was about to get.

She padded across the floor, kicking off her shoes as she went and trying to keep her footsteps light even though the floor was ice cold beneath her bare feet. He didn't stir when she finally climbed into the bed next to him, keeping her moves silent and steady as she slowly slid her hands up underneath his t-shirt.

"Jesus fuck!"

That got his full attention. She smiled sweetly as he pushed himself up onto his elbow, turning his head to glare at her, his look both bleary and baleful.

"Damn it, Whistler. You shower in ice water or something?"

"You're in my bed," she said, ignoring his question on the grounds that it was really fucking stupid. "You're in my bed and you're hogging the covers."

"Ah." He shifted around until he was facing her, his expression moving to amused now instead of pissed off. Not that King stayed pissed off for long, not with her. "Is that how it is?"

He'd somehow managed to wrap himself even more firmly in her covers as he'd rolled over, and she narrowed her eyes at him, knowing damned well it was deliberate. "That's how it is. As you've pointed out, I'm cold, so give me some of the damned covers, King." She tugged on the nearest corner to emphasise her point, but King didn't seem in the move to give, not now he was completely awake and grinning at her.

"Aw, baby," he said, full of a mock sympathy that didn't fool her for a second, not when his fingers tightened on the fabric and his eyes lit up like that, more than ready for a wrestling match - one she'd probably lose, knowing her luck tonight. "Want me to warm you up?"

There was no arguing with him when he was in this kind of mood. Not verbally, at least, but then Abby had always been more of an action girl. Nothing ventured, nothing gained, and all that jazz, but if he was expecting an all-out attack then she was more than happy to disappoint. Instead, she tilted her head and smiled sweetly at him, leaning in closer and peering up from underneath her lashes.

King raised an eyebrow at her, another smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. But if he was wise to her, he wasn't quite quick enough to stop her as she slid her cold hands back under his top and pressing her icy fingers firmly against his chest.

For once, he didn't even fight her on it. Instead, he bit back on a laugh, barely even shivering as he leaned in a little closer, close enough now to let her feel the warmth of his breath against her lips.

"That's not really the kind of warming up I had in mind," he murmured, the words forming eddies against her skin. The look in his eyes was suddenly hungry, dark and heated, and it was enough to make her shiver in turn, nothing to do with the cold air this time.

"Oh?"

She swallowed the sound down, spreading her fingers until her blunt nails scratched lightly at his chest, catching in the dark hairs that grew there.

King didn't answer her at first, not with words. Instead, he pulled back slightly to smirk at her, his fingers closing over hers, his thumb stroking slowly over the back of her hand through the fabric of his t-shirt. She wasn't fooled by the apparent tenderness - she knew him well enough by now to see exactly where this was headed, not at all surprised when he let go of her hand and reached down, catching hold of the bottom of his shirt and tugging it over his head.

He didn't seem to mind the cold, not as much as she did, but then he had been warming himself under her covers while she'd been making the too long trek back to her room from the showers. He'd had plenty of time to warm up, and at least that meant she got to enjoy the view.

Cold or not, he was pretty when he was semi-naked.

He let her look her fill for a moment, his expression still amused when she finally dragged her eyes back to his face. This time when his hand closed over hers, it was to guide it down over the firm planes of his stomach and then underneath the elastic of his boxers.

He was so predictable sometimes.

She raised an eyebrow in his direction, amused in spite of herself, but happy enough to go with the flow and wrap her still cold fingers around his dick. He was hot there - hot everywhere she touched him - and he shivered a little when she squeezed his dick gently, feeling it starting to firm up underneath her touch. It was easy to tease him, falling into the familiar pattern of barely there touches, brushing the back of her hand along his stomach, feeling the coarse hairs that grew there against her skin. Familiar and not quite familiar, both at once; his skin seemed hotter when hers was so chilled, the contrast forcing her to suppress her own shiver, as though his heat only emphasised how cold she'd been until she was close to him, the effect striking even if her fingers no longer felt like icicles and more like she might get some circulation back at some point.

King was watching her, still amused and his eyes still warm as though he found her funny and intriguing both at once, even after all this time, even after all of the times she'd done this. She finally began to stroke him slowly, a barely there movement just to get him started, and he hummed happily, his eyes drifting shut.

She snorted, amused herself by the expression on his face, the way he was sinking into the sensations her touch was causing. "I can't believe you're actually enjoying this. You were shrieking like a little kid a minute ago just because I put my cold hands on you."

He opened his eyes, squinting up at her. "Okay, one, I did not 'shriek like a little kid'. It was a full grown and manly yell of shock. And in case you're wondering how full grown and manly, you currently hold the proof of it in your hand." He actually winked at her, and she rolled her eyes in response, her fingers squeezing his dick again but slightly harder this time, just a hint of 'fuck you' in her touch.

King picked up on it, of course, laughing at her until she turned the squeeze into something closer to a stroke, hard and purposeful so that his breath caught in his throat.

"Secondly," he said a little breathlessly when she loosened her grip, "are you seriously telling me you've never played with sensation, Whistler? No ice cubes or popsicles in your sexual history?" She gave him a distinctly unamused look, and he shook his head sadly. "Abby, Abby, Abby. What am I going to do with you?"

"Probably nothing you haven't done before," she said drily, and he grinned again, wider this time.

"Now that sounds like a challenge," he murmured wickedly, leaning in to steal a kiss.

His mouth was warm, as hot as the rest of him, and she let herself sink into it, the movement of her hand on his dick stilling as she breathed him in.

King let another one of those happy sounds, shifting until his weight was pressing her down into the bed, his palm cupping her face as he explored her mouth. She was a little breathless herself when he finally pulled back, staring down at her with dark eyes, his look considering.

She wasn't surprised when he lowered his head again and his mouth found her neck, his lips fastening on that sweet spot he knew so well, the one that always made her shiver with pleasure, cold or hot. He scraped his teeth across her skin, and the shiver went all the way through her, leaving a pleasant ache deep in her belly. When he shifted position this time it was to brace himself above her so that he could slip one hand underneath her top, his fingers cupping her breast and kneading it gently.

"I think there may be one or two things I haven't done before," he murmured in her ear, his thumb stroking over her nipple, a rough and callused back and forth that had her clenching her thighs together impatiently, wanting his touch, his mouth, somewhere else entirely. "But stop me if it gets a little dull."

She huffed out laugh, the sound dying in the back of her throat as King pushed her top up until it was gathered underneath her armpits, exposing her breasts to the still chilly night air. She didn't run as hot as he did, feeling the cold more acutely, but this time there was a sense of anticipation in the
goosebumps that formed on her body, and in the way that the skin contracted and puckered around her nipples before he'd done more than simply touch her there.

He held her gaze for a long moment, letting that air of anticipation build, and then he let his own gaze move down her body, a slow, heated stare that had her fighting the urge to twitch, to catch hold of his head and drag him down to her by the hair if need be. When he finally leaned in and his mouth fastened around her nipple, the one he'd been teasing with his thumb, she had to bite back on a groan, only to find it forced out of her when he swirled his tongue around her nipple and it hardened further.

His mouth was warm and wet, a sharp contrast with the cool air, and she arched into his touch, her heels digging into the mattress as she pushed up into him. He still wouldn't be hurried, taking the time to tease and torment her, licking and sucking at her flesh, leaving small red marks in his wake.

His breath was warm as it ghosted over her wet skin, but that warmth evaporated once his mouth had moved on, leaving her shivering, caught up in the sensation of her tender flesh reacting to the chill of the air, skin puckering and goosebumping in a way that just ramped up her arousal.

He knew her too well, playing her like a maestro as he tugged lightly on her nipple with his teeth before he moved his attention to her other breast.

She kept the sensations going, cupping the breast he'd abandoned in her hand while King worked on the other one, her fingers stroking over her nipple, gently tugging it in time with King's mouth sucking on her other breast. She knew he liked that, watching her touch herself, knowing it was because of him, the things he was doing to her. She didn't care about his reasons - whether it was simply his ego or some voyeuristic impulse - not when he began to mimic her movements with his mouth and tongue, the rhythm building and building until she was caught up in the perfect feedback loop.

She groaned, feeling the dampness growing between her thighs, and let go of her breast, sinking her fingers into King's hair instead and not at all surprised when his fingers replaced hers, rolling her nipple between work callused fingers again.

Oh, yes. Cold be damned. All she could feel now was the heat surging through her body.

King moved lower, licking trails over her body, leaving nothing but delicious sensations in his wake as heat evaporated from her body, shivering goosebumps still marking the traces left by King's tongue on her flesh.

His fingers hooked around her panties and she raised her hips, letting him slide the fabric over her hips and then down her legs before spreading her thighs and settling down between them, his fingers digging into her flesh, cool and callused.

She was slick and wet when he parted her folds, but he didn't immediately press his mouth against her skin the way he normally would, as eager for the taste of her as she was to feel his agile tongue. Instead he simply waited, his breath hot against her core, eddies of warmth against the cold.

It worked, the differentials in temperature, the anticipation, ratcheting her arousal up until she was ready to beg for it, beg him just to take her the rest of the way. It wouldn't take long, she didn't think, not with the way she felt, every nerve end tingling and her toes already curling.

"Please," she stuttered out, pride be damned. "King, please..." Her fingers found his hair again, sliding into it and curling around the shape of his skull. But not pushing, not forcing - she knew how much he hated that.

And he knew how much she hated to kept waiting, especially after breaking for him so beautifully. He lowered his head, the first firm slide of his tongue through her wetness forcing a groan out of her, her back arching again until he had to pin her down, hands wrapped around her thighs and holding her steady as he pressed his tongue against her clit.

She let out a gasp, strands of his hair wrapping around her fingers as her hips rocked impatiently, seeking more of that sensation, more of his tongue as he teased her, skirting just where she wanted it, then giving her a taste of what she needed, just for a moment, before darting away again.
He could be a fucking prick sometimes, and she groaned in frustration, wanting to come even though she knew that he teased for a reason, that he kept her on the edge because then it was so much better when she finally fell.

But right now it was hard to focus on the long term goal when she could feel her orgasm hanging tantalisingly just out of her reach.

He let go of her with one hand, the other still holding her down, his fingers cold against her skin, as he pulled his mouth away. She let out a sound, half-groan and half-whine, her hips still rocking impatiently as he sucked two of his fingers into his mouth, staring up at her along the length of her body, his eyes dark and greedy.

And then he was pushing those two fingers into her, thick and cool and wet.

Oh, fuck, yes! The sound she let out this time was closer to a whimper, something lost that she'd deny making later, and he took pity on her, lowering his head again, his tongue pressing against her clit more firmly this time, meaning business as he fucked her steadily with those firm, cool fingers. Kept fucking her even as she twisted and bucked and begged.

The tension was building, again, building and building until she was on a knife's edge, just a little more, baby, just a little harder. He curled his fingers inside her and sucked her clit into his mouth, and it was enough, enough for the tension in her to finally snap, heat rolling through her body as she rode the waves of pleasure rushing through her. King held her down as her hips jerked, riding it out with her the rest of the way, his fingers still inside her, until she was reduced to a twitching, sweaty heap of sparking nerve endings.

"Oh, Jesus," she said when she'd finally got her breath back, biting at her lip when King slowly eased his fingers from her body, sending another aftershock of pleasure through her. "That was -"

King grinned down at her, wiping the wetness away from his beard with the back of his hand. "I gathered," he said. "You okay if I fuck you?"

She appreciated the question, especially since she knew he'd be okay with a no. But her body was still thrumming happily, the kind of happy that said she might be able to come again, not the kind that was wrung out and exhausted beyond any more pleasure - and he'd had her at that point more than once since they'd started this whole fucking thing. She stretched languidly, letting out a satisfied, "Hmm mm," and returning his grin when his face lit up.

Yeah, he was predictable, but there was something to be said for that easy familiarity between them.

It didn't take him long to roll a condom on and settle back between her thighs. She sighed happily, reaching down to guide him in, loving the way her body stretched around his dick, how it filled her, how it felt sliding into her, letting out a purr of sheer pleasure as he started to move.

King let out a huff of laughter next to her ear, and she loved that, too, how much joy he took in her. "Hard and fast?" he asked, his hips beginning to pick up that rhythm.

"Deep," she murmured, shifting her hips to accommodate him as he slowed, rolling his hips into her, the coarse, curling hair above his dick rubbing against her clit as he bottomed out each time. "Hmm." She closed her eyes and let the sensations sink into her, the way he felt, the way he moved, his scent and his warm weight pressing her down into the mattress. That familiar tension was starting to build again, slowly at first and then more rapidly as he lost himself in the rhythm of their bodies moving together, letting her know that if he kept it up, kept fucking her like that, that perfectly, she'd come again. She shifted position to make it easier, spreading her legs wider and bringing her knees up, her feet settling on the back of his calves.

He swore and jerked, mock glaring down at her when she forced her eyes again.

"Jesus, Whistler. Watch those feet - they're like fucking icicles."

She giggled - she couldn't help it - and slid her feet higher, moving them slowly up his thighs until she finally settled them on his ass, curling around him easily. Thank god for her flexibility. "Better?" she asked with the same mock sympathy he'd had in his voice earlier.

"Actually... yes."

It was better for her, too, once he started moving again, the tilt of her hips letting him slide more deeply into her, pressing more firmly against her with each thrust.

"Oh." She slid her hands greedily over his shoulders and back, digging her fingers in when he pushed into her more deeply, the rocking movement sending more shivers through her. "Oh, yes, there."

"You like that, baby?"

"Yes." She bit at her lip. "Hmm. Yes, that feels really good." He pushed into her again, more deliberately this time, slow and deep and so fucking easy, the way it always was between them. "Oh, yes. Like that. Don't stop. Please. Don't... don't stop."

"Jesus." His voice broke on a laugh, something breathless with need and exertion. "I love how fucking vocal you are, Abby. Who'd have thought it? Strong, stoic Abigail Whistler, begging for my dick."

She let out another sound, something high-pitched and needy as he pushed into her again, trusting him with it, trusting him to get her the rest of the way.

"Say it." The words were hot against her ear as he buried his face in her hair, his arms tightening around her. "Say it, Whistler."

"Please." The sound was forced out of her as the pleasure continued to build, spiralling through her, an ache in her belly, a tension in all of her limbs. Her fingers were still digging into his flesh, pressed against the small of his back, his ass, as she tried to pull him closer, deeper.

"Please what?" The words rumbled through her. "Please what, Abby?"

"Fuck me fuck me fuck me fuck me." The words became a litany, a mindless recitation punctuated only by the gasps she let out each time he drove into her. "Please, please, fuck me, Hannibal. Fuck me, please."

He pressed his mouth against hers, stealing her words entirely as he picked up the pace, hard and fast and deep, until she was nothing but animal needs and sounds, nothing but sensation, his dick and her body. She was lost, white lights behind her lids and sharp cries forced out of her by each slam of his dick into her, every sound muffled by King's mouth on hers.

Her orgasm crashed through her this time, sweeping her away, her fingers curling helplessly against his skin and her feet sliding off his ass as her hips jerked with each pulse of pleasure. Even after it had ebbed away, each move of King inside her brought an echo of it back, little sharp surges of bliss that left her sighing against his shoulder.

King's rhythm slowed as he lifted his head enough to peer down at her. "Okay?"

She let out a wordless purr of satisfaction, one that had him grinning at her, his face flushed and a little smug.

"You gonna come again?"

She considered it for a moment, analysing the thrumming of her body again and coming to the inevitable conclusion. "No," she said without much regret, not when her limbs still felt like liquid and her body ached with satisfaction. "You can go for it."

His laugh this time was soft and affectionate, and when he kissed her it started sweet before turning heated. When he started moving again, this time he picked the pace he preferred, the one that got him going, and had him coming.

She watched his face, taking in each micro-expression that flitted across it, the brief frown of concentration, the way his face cleared and his lips parted if she squeezed the muscles of her vagina around him, the way the pleasure started to build for him, that pleasure that could look so much like pain on his face.

It didn't take him long to find his own release, his grip on her tightening as he dropped his head, burying it in her shoulder as she smoothed her hands over his back. He was rougher now, not as careful with her as he grew closer to the edge, and she liked that a little too much, closing her eyes and focusing on the last shivers of pleasure sliding through her as his hips jerked hard against her, once, twice, three times.

He didn't make much sound when he came, not like she did, a weird reversal of the way they were outside of this, when she couldn't shut him up. She wasn't sure which she preferred - King vocal and happy, or so lost in her body that he couldn't find the words.

Both, she thought, sliding her palm over the sweaty hair at the nape of his neck, feeling his ragged breath against her skin as he came down from that high, curling into her like for once he needed her warmth the way she always needed his. She wanted - needed - both.

By the time King was finally ready to pull away from her, the sweat was cooling on her skin, her shivers now less to do with pleasure than the chill in the air. He eased out of carefully out of her, his fingers wrapped around the base of his dick to make sure the condom stayed put, and his other hand resting on her thigh, like he still couldn't let go of her entirely, not yet.

"Okay?" he asked her again, shooting her a brief look, most of his attention on dealing with the condom. "Nicely warmed up?"

"Starting to get cold again, actually," she said, grinning at him when he gave her a mock-exasperated look. "Somebody stole all of the covers."

He rolled his eyes, finally levering himself up off the bed and pointedly pulling the covers over her and tucking her in before he headed to the small head adjoining her room. "Well, if you will insist on walking the corridors with wet hair, you only have yourself to blame. Although..." He poked his head back around the corner of the door, and she really hoped he was going to pay more attention to what he was doing before he started to piss, given that that was her bathroom, not his. "I guess this means you actually are going to be sleeping in the wet patch tonight."

Asshole. She held his gaze steadily and then slowly raised her middle finger, not letting the corner of her mouth turn up until she heard him laugh. He had a nice laugh, when he wasn't being an ass. And, she had to admit, even when he was.

She waited until he was out of sight before she swapped their pillows over, pulling his drier one under her head as she snuggled more deeply into the blankets, more than ready for some sleep. It served him right if he had to deal with the damper of the two. He deserved everything he got.

Including her, if he wanted her.

The end