FIC: Again (MA) for Moonlight
Title: Again
Author: divinejoker
Rating: MA
Spoilers: My previous fic, “More” and Fever (1x04)
Pairing: Mick/Beth.
Disclaimer: Not mine. Obviously. Not making any money off time wasted writing this. Obviously.
A/N: Not beta'd. Grammar bads and speling mystakes are all my fualt.
A/N the II: My responses to your wonderful comments were lost somewhere in LJ’s Netherworld and have not been found. Suffice it to say that all your lover-ly comments were greatly appreciated and highly motivating…
Hence following fic…
Enjoy.
*** **** *** **** ***
Deep in his heart, he had always known that he would never have been able to deny her anything. And in all honesty, he would never *ever* be able to deny himself her. To have her in front of him, holding her arm so appetizingly…
He sighed. “Beth, it’s not that simple.”
She cocked an eyebrow at him and tipped her head down, trying to judge his truthfulness.
“Why not?”
Bull headed as always, she moved forward, forcing him back into his apartment; his chagrin lasted until she lifted her arm in offering again.
“You don’t have to be dying to drink, Mick.” She smiled lazily before adding, “Do it again.”
He watched her intently for a short moment, listening to her heartbeat, savouring the pulse of her blood just below the surface. Unconsciously, he licked his lips and she smiled in triumph.
Somewhat annoyed at her head-first mentality, he looked her straight in the eyes and allowed his vampiric instincts to take over, watching her closely for any sign of hesitation. Yet, instead of repulsion or fear, her body changed and he could smell a flood of pheromones slipping out of her pores.
Her apparent desire fed his own and slipping a hand from her shoulder to her elbow, pulled her skin tight against his lips. Familiar salt and smell invaded his senses and the heady iron-rich tang of blood, pulsing steadily and rapidly beneath her skin…
Gently, he fit his teeth into her wounds and pressed down, slowly, savouring the catch of her breath and the pulse of her life beneath his lips. The first drops came to him almost reluctantly, but along with the explosion of fluid on his tongue, he could smell the rise of her desire.
One hand dropped from her arm and pulled her bodily to him, pressing against her hip to hold her still. She sighed and collapsed into him, her own free arm curling up his back and clutching into his hair. She pressed him to her arm, silently urging him to continue, to take what he wanted from her.
Mick knew that he could easily allow himself to drown in her, lose himself in the amazing taste of her blood and forget that she trusted him with her life. He knew that there was such a thin line between lust and blood-lust that she had never experienced; that she trusted him not to cross.
He wouldn’t, but there was nothing stopping him from indulging himself while they were here. He let the feeling flood through him, sensations feeding on her blood as well; swelling and growing and enveloping him whole. He hadn’t felt a surge of arousal like this in a few decades and could only admit sheepishly that he wasn’t surprised that she was one to do it to him.
Mick slowed his drinking, allowing her blood to clot beneath his tongue; the iron turning heady and nearly bitter. Curling his tongue to hold the last of her flavour in for a long moment, his fingers moved along her side, up up up…
He pulled her roughly to him, felt her fall lax against him and slide comfortably along the length of his body. He slipped down onto the couch behind him and took her with him.
“Why?” he asked softly. He hadn’t taken as much from her this time as he had needed in the desert and knew that she was fully aware of him; of everything about him.
She sighed into his chest and let her fingers dance along his shirt before admitting, “Because it’s *you*.”
And to her, that was it: intimacy.
Mick had had his fill from girls for years; women who would feel a certain arousal from the power that he exuded just by being a vampire. They got off on the mortality of it all, that he would hold their lives literally between his teeth and there was nothing that they could do about it.
Beth held her desire in check until it was *him* drinking from *her* arm. What had ignited her fire was the trust that she had in him and the intimacy of refusing to drink from her in the first place.
Feeling this click, something else in him turned off and allowed the intensity of the moment flood his heightened senses. He drowned in her scent, felt his ears ring with the beat of her heart and licked his lips for the last of her taste. And for several long moments he allowed himself to stay there.
She bit her lip and pushed up against his chest so that she was looking down on him.
“Why the arm?”
He lifted a finger and dragged it along the length of her neck, delighting in the shiver that wracked her frame. “It’s easier to stop the blood…” he smiled, knowing that his fangs were showing. “This way I can keep doing it.” He playfully nipped at her still leaking wounds, then gently licked the few stray drops.
“But they’ll never heal that way, Mick.” She pointed out and slipped her shirt from her shoulder. “Why not try here?”
Caught unexpectedly by the offer, he groaned. “Beth, I can’t take much more from you. You’ll get weak.”
She lowered her lashes and looked at him askance from just above his chest.
“I know.”
She sat up in his lap, thighs on either side of his and her hands braced on his chest. She sighed in resignation and idly drew random lines over his shirt. They were quiet for a long moment intent solely on the sensation of touch rather than taste and then Beth smiled sheepishly and asked, “How about tomorrow?”
*** **** *** **** ***
Author: divinejoker
Rating: MA
Spoilers: My previous fic, “More” and Fever (1x04)
Pairing: Mick/Beth.
Disclaimer: Not mine. Obviously. Not making any money off time wasted writing this. Obviously.
A/N: Not beta'd. Grammar bads and speling mystakes are all my fualt.
A/N the II: My responses to your wonderful comments were lost somewhere in LJ’s Netherworld and have not been found. Suffice it to say that all your lover-ly comments were greatly appreciated and highly motivating…
Hence following fic…
Enjoy.
*** **** *** **** ***
Deep in his heart, he had always known that he would never have been able to deny her anything. And in all honesty, he would never *ever* be able to deny himself her. To have her in front of him, holding her arm so appetizingly…
He sighed. “Beth, it’s not that simple.”
She cocked an eyebrow at him and tipped her head down, trying to judge his truthfulness.
“Why not?”
Bull headed as always, she moved forward, forcing him back into his apartment; his chagrin lasted until she lifted her arm in offering again.
“You don’t have to be dying to drink, Mick.” She smiled lazily before adding, “Do it again.”
He watched her intently for a short moment, listening to her heartbeat, savouring the pulse of her blood just below the surface. Unconsciously, he licked his lips and she smiled in triumph.
Somewhat annoyed at her head-first mentality, he looked her straight in the eyes and allowed his vampiric instincts to take over, watching her closely for any sign of hesitation. Yet, instead of repulsion or fear, her body changed and he could smell a flood of pheromones slipping out of her pores.
Her apparent desire fed his own and slipping a hand from her shoulder to her elbow, pulled her skin tight against his lips. Familiar salt and smell invaded his senses and the heady iron-rich tang of blood, pulsing steadily and rapidly beneath her skin…
Gently, he fit his teeth into her wounds and pressed down, slowly, savouring the catch of her breath and the pulse of her life beneath his lips. The first drops came to him almost reluctantly, but along with the explosion of fluid on his tongue, he could smell the rise of her desire.
One hand dropped from her arm and pulled her bodily to him, pressing against her hip to hold her still. She sighed and collapsed into him, her own free arm curling up his back and clutching into his hair. She pressed him to her arm, silently urging him to continue, to take what he wanted from her.
Mick knew that he could easily allow himself to drown in her, lose himself in the amazing taste of her blood and forget that she trusted him with her life. He knew that there was such a thin line between lust and blood-lust that she had never experienced; that she trusted him not to cross.
He wouldn’t, but there was nothing stopping him from indulging himself while they were here. He let the feeling flood through him, sensations feeding on her blood as well; swelling and growing and enveloping him whole. He hadn’t felt a surge of arousal like this in a few decades and could only admit sheepishly that he wasn’t surprised that she was one to do it to him.
Mick slowed his drinking, allowing her blood to clot beneath his tongue; the iron turning heady and nearly bitter. Curling his tongue to hold the last of her flavour in for a long moment, his fingers moved along her side, up up up…
He pulled her roughly to him, felt her fall lax against him and slide comfortably along the length of his body. He slipped down onto the couch behind him and took her with him.
“Why?” he asked softly. He hadn’t taken as much from her this time as he had needed in the desert and knew that she was fully aware of him; of everything about him.
She sighed into his chest and let her fingers dance along his shirt before admitting, “Because it’s *you*.”
And to her, that was it: intimacy.
Mick had had his fill from girls for years; women who would feel a certain arousal from the power that he exuded just by being a vampire. They got off on the mortality of it all, that he would hold their lives literally between his teeth and there was nothing that they could do about it.
Beth held her desire in check until it was *him* drinking from *her* arm. What had ignited her fire was the trust that she had in him and the intimacy of refusing to drink from her in the first place.
Feeling this click, something else in him turned off and allowed the intensity of the moment flood his heightened senses. He drowned in her scent, felt his ears ring with the beat of her heart and licked his lips for the last of her taste. And for several long moments he allowed himself to stay there.
She bit her lip and pushed up against his chest so that she was looking down on him.
“Why the arm?”
He lifted a finger and dragged it along the length of her neck, delighting in the shiver that wracked her frame. “It’s easier to stop the blood…” he smiled, knowing that his fangs were showing. “This way I can keep doing it.” He playfully nipped at her still leaking wounds, then gently licked the few stray drops.
“But they’ll never heal that way, Mick.” She pointed out and slipped her shirt from her shoulder. “Why not try here?”
Caught unexpectedly by the offer, he groaned. “Beth, I can’t take much more from you. You’ll get weak.”
She lowered her lashes and looked at him askance from just above his chest.
“I know.”
She sat up in his lap, thighs on either side of his and her hands braced on his chest. She sighed in resignation and idly drew random lines over his shirt. They were quiet for a long moment intent solely on the sensation of touch rather than taste and then Beth smiled sheepishly and asked, “How about tomorrow?”
*** **** *** **** ***