[Caliban Leandros Series]: Moving Pictures
“You’ll like this one,” Cal promised her. The theater was deserted, fortunately, and he dragged her down to a seat in the front row. Delilah did not, as she had predicted, enjoy the movie very much, and her loud sighs were slightly distracting.
About halfway through the movie, she leaned over and pinched him. Hard. Caliban jumped.
“What was that for?”
“You are looking at that girl’s ass too much,” Delilah informed him, primly. “You are only supposed to look at mine. Isn’t that the rule?”
“It’s a movie,” Caliban said, rubbing his arm. “That’s what you go to movies for.” He knew right away from her frown that she was in trouble, and braced himself for - something.
Instead, she climbed into his lap, sitting on his thighs with her knees on the chair. “…hey,” he ventured, in slight confusion, but she gave him one of those looks that said to just shut up and he wasn’t going to argue with that one.
“You smell like sweat,” she murmured, leaning forward. “Sweat and smoke. Did you set something on fire?”
“Thanks,” he managed to say, trying to shift his legs, but Delilah’s squeezed together, clamping as she leaned forward a little more. “I just showered this morning.”
She laughed. “Not like that.” Delilah curled her fingers around his shoulders, squeezes once, and put her face next to his neck. Cal hadn’t known anyone could make taking a breath sound…hot. “In a male way.”
“So it’s…good?” He glanced at the movie screen over her shoulder. It happened to be a close shot on the main female’s ass again, just by chance. Whatever Delilah smelled, if she smelled anything, she bit him. Not hard, and not earnestly, but it hurt all the same.
“Ow! Delilah-“
She licked the same spot she’d bitten and he felt his skin start to tingle. On the screen, the leads appeared to be dropping their pants in a hurry. “Perfect timing,” he grunted, and she growled at him, adjusting on his legs. This time he felt her crotch rub against his thigh and was sure it was on purpose. It ought to have been, she was already slipping three fingers under the waistband of his jeans.
“Delilah, here,” he tried to say, and she bit his earlobe this time, but more lightly, and then sucked on it. He could imagine the wicked gleam in her eyes and moved his hands from his sides to squeeze her ass. “Fuck you,” he muttered, head tilted back.
“I plan on it,” she said, and kissed his lips. Caliban twitched as she curled the knuckles of her fingers into his lower belly, and then started to undo his pants.
He couldn’t help looking around the theater. Still empty, but-
Delilah ran a finger down his cock. It hardly seemed to need the encouragement. Caliban moved his arms to her waist and pulled her into an open-mouthed kiss, though he had to let her go to tug her shirt off over her head. She handled the bra, having realized by now that he wasn’t particularly good with them. Letting her hands down and dropping the bra behind the seat, she smacked his ass.
“Up,” she said, and he flushed but lifted his hips so she could pull his jeans down around his knees. He happened to glimpse the screen again, and flushed. They were now going at it properly, complete with the damned porno music.
“Good mood music,” he grunted, and she wrapped a hand around his cock, slid it upwards.
“Fantastic.” She wriggled again, on his legs, and he moved his hands from her breasts to her pants, unfastened them, and slipped his hand inside. This time it definitely wasn’t a growl, though her teeth brushed against his skin.
“If you want these off…”
“You’ll have to move your hand.” He withdrew it obediently and she stood up, turned around, and slid her jeans off. She looked over her shoulder.
“Don’t I have a better ass?”
Cal looked at the screen, and looked at Delilah. “Yeah,” he said, “All right. Come here. My dick’s getting cold.”
She snorted and padded back over, straddling his lap again. “Better?”
“No.”
She inched forward, folding her legs up under herself, just brushing against the tip of his cock, sticking up absurdly. He made an incoherent noise best approximated by ‘nnnrergh’ and tried to move his hips. “Better now?”
“That’s worse.”
Delilah laughed again and just-like-that slid onto him, bodies resting together at the hips. Delilah moved hers a little circle and Cal grabbed her around the lower back and kissed her hard to keep from yelling.
“That’s better,” she said. “Now you are paying attention to me.”
“Christ, you hog-“
“Wolf has two meanings, you know,” Delilah’s eyes were grinning at him as she started to move back and forth, slow and smooth and sensual. Cal could keep from yelling. He couldn’t quite keep from moaning.
“You little,” he said, without meaning it, and slid down in the chair so he could part her folds with a finger and rub against her clit. She rewarded him with a hiss that was not so quiet, sitting up and arching her back, pushing her breasts forward.
“The projectionist is going to see you,” he said, thickly.
“I don’t care,” she said, and arched her back more. Caliban tried to move his own hips, but she held him down, body grinding against his, hands sliding up his chest to play with his nipples. He made a small, strangled noise, and rubbed her faster.
She surprised him by coming first, body jerking with the little spasms, though she did bite her lip and didn’t howl, fortunately. That might have brought someone running. He followed her a few thrusts later, pressing against her as much as he dared.
Delilah flopped against his chest, though her legs squeezed him once more, and grinned. “All right,” she said, “Maybe I don’t mind movies that much.”
“Maybe we should watch them more often,” Caliban managed to ask, still trying to catch his breath. She was hardly even flushed. Damn werewolves.
Delilah shoved his shirt in his face. “Don’t even think about it, Caliban.” She got up, sashayed down the aisle to get her bra. “Maybe in a library.”
Caliban couldn’t quite find a way to respond to that.