The House of the Rising Sun, Chapter Fifteen, Part 2
Title: House of the Rising Sun
Fandoms: a cross over between Marvel's X-Men(to some degree) Universe and the Anita Blake Universe
Rating: no one under 18. there will be blood and gore, sex and violence. dirty language and whatever else i feel like tossing in here.
Warning: as i said, sex and violence and dirty words. said sex will include, but not be limited to, M/F, M/M, M/F/F, F/F, M/M/F and probably any other combination i can work out. weak stomach, not my fault. you have been warned.
Disclaimer: i do not own anyone from the Marvel universe. i do not own anyone from the Anita Blake universe. i don't even own Gin. i'm lucky to own myself. i swear i'm not making any money from this. i just do what the sick voices inside my head tell me to. i write purely for my enjoyment. and possibly the comments. please don't sue, harass or bother me. i have no money to pay you, but i do have a really nasty temper. and i know some good cuss words.
The House of the Rising Sun: The Index
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After a few moments of useless scrubbing with a wash cloth, Gin paused to look critically at her reflection. She was a mess, her hair snarled and make up streaked. Her eyes were still red and puffy. Her efforts to wash her face had re-opened half-healed cuts on her knuckles and the bruising was now nice and dark. The sound of voices pricked at her attention and she bit her lip. Normally, curiosity would have had her straining her ears to hear. But right now, she just wished whoever it was would be gone by the time she came out.
“A shower will fix both problems.” She mused to herself and reached for the shower knobs. Soon she was under the warm spray. Not only did the water wash away the tears, sweat and stink of her misery, it blocked out the sound of quiet voices. She tried to think of nothing at all until she was clean again. By that time, there were no more voices. She gave herself a brisk toweling off. Ignoring the hair dryer someone had provided her, she simply toweled it as dry as she could and brushed it out into a damp curtain around her shoulders.
She pulled on the faded old dorm shirt with its fat orange cat across the chest over a pair of green cotton panties. She didn’t remember buying the panties. New clothes kept showing up among the few things that had made it to St. Louis from New Orleans. Half expecting Damian to have left despite his promise, she opened the door and stepped into her room. Spotting her visitor, she froze.
Damian’s tall, lean form was lounging on her bed, his back resting against the headboard, his bare feet pale against the dark green coverlet. He’d removed the green sequin and mesh shirt that he’d worn to the party and had undone the top two buttons of his leather pants. She was suddenly acutely aware that the worn cotton of her shirt was thin enough to cling to every curve of her body. While he didn’t stare, she could feel his interest. For the first time it dawned on her that she had invited this beautiful man to spend the night. She fought the urge to fold her arms over her breasts and felt her cheeks first go cold, then warm with a blush.
“Come to bed, Ginette.” He called softly, reaching a pale hand out to her and waiting. Her gaze rested on the hand before flicking up to meet the brilliant green of his eyes. She took in the sharp contrast of his red hair spilling across his pale flesh. Uneasy, she quickly turned her gaze from him to the door to the corridor.
“I heard voices. Who was that?” She let her gaze drift back toward the bed as she waited for his response.
“Your keeper. He was concerned.” She stole another glance at his eyes to see if his expression matched the wry tone. “I told him to return before dawn.”
“Jason’s alright.” She bit her lip. “Is he in trouble?” Only now did it occur to her that what she’d done might have caused trouble for Jason. At the moment she couldn’t muster enough energy to worry about whether Remy could be held accountable as her Master. Part of her blamed him for running off and leaving her alone.
“I doubt it. Jean Claude has always been rather lenient with his pet wolf.” Damian’s outstretched hand dropped to pat the mattress next to him. “Come to bed, Ginette. There is no need to look so frightened. Nothing will happen unless you wish it.”
“I’m not frightened.” She suddenly realized that her arms had crept up until she was practically hugging herself. She dropped them to her sides and stepped closer to the bed. “I just started thinking, that’s all.”
Damian arched one eyebrow at that, but said nothing. He merely patted the bed again with an air of patient waiting. Her pulse sped a bit and she deliberately relaxed her shoulders before climbing onto the bed. She crawled closer until she was close enough to touch, but stopped to kneel before him.
“I’m sorry. I’m being silly.”
“Not silly at all.” His hand reached out to take hers and he drew it up to his lips. He brushed his mouth softly across her bruised knuckles. He pulled gently, coaxing her to come closer. “You have every reason to be cautious. Have I done something to frighten you?”
“No. Not really.” She let him draw her closer until her knees touched one leather-clad thigh. “It just occurred to me that…I really…hadn’t… thought…” Her words stuttered and died as he brought her other hand up to his mouth. This time she felt a soft tongue slide across the healing wounds. Not only could she see the pleasure in his expression as he sampled her blood, she could feel it rubbing like a cat against the still shaky edges of her shields. It left her staring at him, body tingling in response.
“Such a look. Tell me what you want, Ginette.” He pulled again on her hands, urging her to move even closer until she straddled his thighs. “What is it that you need?”
She blinked and reached out to rest her palms against his chest. His flesh was warm, so she knew that he had fed. “I want… I don’t know what I want.”
“Jason offered to stay with you.” He reached out and began stroking her shoulders, hands sliding down her shoulder blades, along her back and following the curves of her hips and thighs before reversing the journey. His touch was too firm to be called a caress, but too light for a massage. “Would you like me to call him back?”
“No.”
“Then tell me, little one.” His voice was soft, little more than a whisper.
“I want…I need…” She wanted to both lean into his careful stroking and jump up and flee the room. She wanted to crawl back into his arms and sob again. She wanted to undo the remaining buttons on his leather pants and see what they hid. She wanted to leave this place and go back to a home that was no longer there. She wanted to find Jo and disappear together into another city. She wanted to spend the night in Remy’s arms again. She wanted… “I need you to touch me.”
The stroking paused a moment before continuing. “What sort of touch, Ginette? Sex? Or to feed the skin hunger?”
“Skin hunger?”
“All of us who were born human need touch to stay sane.” He reached up to cradle her face, tilting it up until she met his gaze fully. One thumb stroked along the curve of her bottom lip. “But lycanthropes seem to need it more than most. The ones that I know seem to prefer to sleep naked in groups that Anita calls ‘puppy piles.’ Is it the touch itself you need, or something else, Ginette?”
She swallowed hard and tried to define for herself what she was feeling. While he waited, he returned to his stroking. Shoulders, back, hips, thighs and then upwards again. He repeated the circuit twice before she gathered her thoughts enough to speak. “It’s both, I think.”
“I see.” The stroking changed, becoming less soothing and more caressing. His hand drifted up to cradle her head and he leaned close for a kiss, but her hands pushed him back against the headboard. “No?”
She leaned forward to rest her forehead against his chest. “It’s just that I haven’t had sex since that last night with Jo and Remy. Before I shifted for the first time.”
“Are you afraid you cannot control your beast?” The caresses became a soothing kneading along her spine.
“Maybe.” She sighed as the kneading loosened muscles she hadn’t realized were tight. “I was waiting until I could talk to them. Mostly to Remy. Jo and I have never had that kind of relationship, really. But after the way he reacted to Jo and Asher…”
“You fear angering your master?”
“No. I’m not scared of him.” She sat back and frowned up at the vampire. “I think he’ll try to convince me that he can handle it if something went wrong. But I’m pretty sure he doesn’t have any more experience with new shifters than I do. He’ll be mad. But he won’t hurt me.”
“I would not let you harm me.” Damian’s hands ceased their movement. “I am one of the oldest vampires in this kiss. Do not worry for me.”
“I…” Gin blinked at him, trying to sort out just why she was hesitating. “I…Did someone tell you to have sex with me, Damian? Is that what Jason came to tell you?”
“No. “ The answer was firm. “He did not.”
“Oh.” She swallowed and licked her lips. “I get the feeling that if Jason wasn’t actually ordered to do it, he’s been manipulated to the point where he feels obligated. I don’t want to be anyone’s obligation.”
“And that is why you have refused him?”
“That and not being able to talk it over with Remy first.” She cocked her head and looked askance at him. “He told you, didn’t he?”
“Yes.”
“And you decided you wanted to…”
“Yes.”
“Now I really feel silly.”
“That is not how I want you to feel.” He cupped her face in his hands again and met her eyes. “I want to kiss away those tears and make love to you. I want to bury myself in you until we both are undone with pleasure. I am not afraid of your beast or of your master. “
“Oh.” Her eyes were wide with surprise and her mouth slightly open. When he leaned close for a kiss, this time she drew closer. The kiss began as a soft exploration and quickly became a heated exchange of need and desire. Gin slid closer until she could she could feel the buttons of his fly through the thin cotton of her panties and the pressure of what was beneath it. She moaned softly at the surge of need it sent through her. Her hands slid behind his neck to bury themselves in the brilliant red silk of his hair. She’d never seen the like before and the temptation to play with it was almost a compulsion.
Damian responded with a groan of his own and this time when his hands slid down her body, they stopped to cup her breasts, thumbs stroking across nipples gone hard and sensitive. Electric tingles sparked along her nerves to her center and she squirmed against him. Damian’s lips slid from hers with a soft chuckle, moving along the line of her jaw and lower to nibble and kiss down the line of her neck. Each time she felt the tiny prick of a fang, shivers skittered along her skin. It left her gasping and squirming.
“Oh god, Damian!” It was too much and she buried her face in his neck and shuddered against his body. The vampire chuckled in her ear as he slipped his hands beneath the hem of her shirt to play along the edges of her panties.
“Are you so sensitive in other places?” His fingers skimmed across the cotton, playing across more intimate things than her neck. She whimpered as they grazed over her clit. Her hips moved of their own accord, seeking more contact. “Mmm, yes.” He murmured, grazing that spot again before moving lower. The gentle caressing was maddening and she sat back on his thighs to grab the hem of her nightshirt and peel it off impatiently. She tossed it aside, not caring where it landed.
Damian’s expression was hungry as his eyes moved over her body. He reached out for her, taking her breast in one hand while the other slipped around her body to pull her up to her knees so that he could bend down take a nipple in his mouth. He began to lick and suck roll the hard bit of flesh with his tongue while his hair fell in a cool spill against her skin. The scent of him mingled with the scent of her own arousal and she felt the cat inside her stir. The graze of a fang made her cry out. He lifted his head to gaze down at her.
“Please, Damian. I need more.”
“So greedy.” He smiled and shook his head enough to send his hair sliding across his shoulders. She bit her lip and reached out to stroke across his ribs, exploring the pale, muscled frame. He was so much paler than anyone she’d ever seen, even other vampires. It was if a marble statue had somehow sprung to life. She drew her hands downwards, fingernails trailing across his skin until she reached the waistband of his pants. The leather was supple and warm from the heat of their bodies. She toyed with the top button until it sprang free from its hole. It was enough to let her catch a glimpse of scarlet hair before he drew her hand away.
“Not yet.” He settled her hand on his shoulder. “I want to see you take your pleasure before I take mine.”
“What?” Her question was answered as his hand moved from her breast downwards to slide beneath the elastic of her panties. “Oh!” She exclaimed when his fingers found her clit and began to toy with it. She found herself gripping his shoulder hard as he began to explore her most sensitive parts. Her body danced in response to his motions, hips jerking and twitching. When he slid a finger inside her, she moaned her need. A second followed and she found herself grinding against it. The cat inside her was now fully awake, adding its primal hunger to her own desire.
“Hold on to me, Ginette.” His fingers paused until she placed both arms around his shoulders. “You need think of nothing but pleasure and controlling your beast.”
“What if I can’t?” She whispered.
“Tell me to stop. We will wait until you have control and try again.” His tone was firm and the confidence in it helped settle the butterflies in her stomach. The sense of the cat receded a little. He leaned down press his lips against her temple. Then his fingers resumed their exploration.
At first his touch was lingering and gentle, but as he plumbed the secrets of her body his touches grew more purposeful. When he found the spot inside her and began to work at it, she started to shake and whimper. Pleasure built until it was nearly pain, but release hovered just out of reach. Gin’s heart pounded as she watched the sleek, black form of her leopard circling in her mind’s eye. It snarled at her and she whimpered.
“Ginette!” The sharpness of his tone told her that it wasn’t the first time he’d spoken. Her eyes snapped open to focus on him. She hadn’t realized she’d closed them. “Are you fighting me or your beast?”
“I…it’s really close, Damian.” She shuddered, her body caught on the edge of frustration. “She’s right there, snarling at me.”
“No doubt she feels your frustration.” He murmured reassuringly. “She snarls because you are frightened.”
“I’m not…”
“Then relax. Do not fight the pleasure.” He pushed her gently back until he could claim her lips in a kiss. It was hungry and fierce. As his tongue pierced her mouth, his fingers began to move inside her with a new relentlessness. She groaned into his mouth and returned his kiss with fervor. He held her tightly as his fingers worked at that spot inside her, his thumb circling her clit until she writhed against him. The pleasure peaked again and she hovered at the edge for a heart-stopping moment before it crashed over her. Her body arched and bucked, but his arm was like steel around her. He drew back from her mouth to watch her as she climaxed. He murmured words of encouragement while her body twitched and shuddered, his fingers still working, prolonging the release and drawing hoarse cries from her throat.
Before one orgasm was quite over, the next began and she whimpered, her senses exploding again and again. Damian’s voice was a steady murmur of sound while his fingers continued to work at her. It was only when she mustered enough wit to cry “Enough, Damian. Enough…gods…” that he stilled his fingers and withdrew them. She went limp against him and he shifted to cradle her against his chest. She lay there panting, fingers idly mapping out a maze of scars made long before she was born while he stroked her hair.
“Are you all right, little one?” He spoke after several long moments of silence.
“Yeah. Better than all right.” She giggled wearily. “Gods did I need that. I feel like my whole body has turned to jelly.”
Damian chuckled softly. “I hope I have not worn you out?”
“No. I just need a breather. Your turn next?”
“Oh. I think I can manage to pleasure us both.” He skimmed a hand along her inner thigh and she gasped. “If you are ready?”
“Yes. I think so.” She shivered, her nipples crinkling harder in anticipation. She slid from his lap to let him slide out of his pants, watching him with interest while she slipped out of her panties. Her eyes followed as the soft leather revealed more impossibly pale flesh. She swallowed hard to see him long and straight and ready for her, framed with scarlet that matched the hair on his head. She reached out to touch it, sliding her palm along the length and curling her fingers around it, enjoying the smooth glide of it against her skin. The vampire closed his eyes and let out a slow breath. A tiny pearl of moisture already beaded the tip and she smoothed it over the head with her thumb. He made a pleased sound deep in his throat.
His reaction made her smile and she gave another slow, teasing stroke before releasing him and settling herself at the head of the bed. Her eyes glittered with interest as she watched him recover himself, eyes fluttering open to pin her with their hungry gaze. Things deep inside her tightened as he moved to kneel between her thighs. He seemed to tower over her and breath sped in anticipation. She bit her lip and opened a bit wider in invitation.
Damian’s lips curved in a smile as he reached down to stroke her thighs, pressing them a little farther apart. He took a moment to simply caress her, eyes studying her face as she squirmed in reaction. A tiny sound escaped her when his fingers grazed the edges of her sex.
He seemed to take the sound as a signal that she was ready. He shifted slightly, grasping his length in one hand to guide it as he began to slide it slowly inside her. Gin moaned and writhed, hips lifting to meet him. He pressed forward until their lower bodies met, his upper body suspended above her, supported by his strong arms. She reached up to draw her fingernails lightly across his chest, tracing a pattern that wandered from one scar to the next and glided across his ribs. He drew in a shaky breath, then began to move.
He started with long, slow strokes. He slid in and out of her, nearly drawing himself out completely, then plunging as deep as it was possible to go. She moaned with each thrust, hips rocking to match his rhythm, hands gliding and exploring every bit of skin she could reach. Gradually the strokes came faster and harder. She groaned her approval, her hands gripping at his forearms as she began to writhe beneath him.
“More, Damian. Please. Faster.” She pleaded, feeling the pleasure coiling tight inside her. The vampire obeyed, his rhythm changing to meet her demands. “Harder.” She whispered, her back arching, hips rising to meet him. He grunted an assent and his next thrust made her cry out, her grip on his arms tightening as her body arched and spasmed beneath him. He groaned as her inner muscles clutched at him and he stilled his motion until she went limp.
“Good?” He asked, his voice thick with his own need. She nodded her head, letting her hands fall limp to the bed on either side of her body. “No trouble from your beast?”
“No trouble.” She panted, her breasts moving with the rise and fall of her chest. He smiled down at her and reached down to grasp first one wrist, then the other and pin them to the bed with his weight. She tested his grip, pulling experimentally against his grasp for a moment before subsiding without a protest. She swallowed hard, then deliberately squeezed the muscles that still held him inside her. His hips shifted forward in response.
“Eager, aren’t you?” He didn’t wait for an answer, but started moving again. This time he set his own pace, a deep steady thrusting that had her squirming and whimpering beneath him. It only took a few moments for her to reach her pinnacle again, her body bucking and pulling against his grasp. This time he didn’t stop, simply kept up his pace. She cried out wordlessly as a second crest hit her before the first had finished. With the third wave, she raised her legs to wrap them around his hips, body struggling to pull him even deeper. The change in angle undid his control and his hips thrust hard enough to draw a cry of protest from her just before another orgasm started its dance along her body. He spent himself with a hoarse groan while her muscles spasmed around him, milking him.
He held himself still until her body slowly relaxed beneath him. Then pulled away from her, rolling to the side so that he could pull her close against his body. He let her rest her cheek against his shoulder and rested his chin against her hair while he began to stroke her again in long, soothing motions.
“Feeling better, now?” His voice was a low rumble in her ear.
“I feel like a limp noodle.” She giggled wearily. “Like a very satisfied limp noodle.” He smiled, pleased.
“I think I shall envy your master more than a little.” He paused his stroking to push a few strands of damp hair from her cheek. “Now that I have had a taste.”
“You were ama-“ she tried to stifle a yawn and lost. “Amazing. Thank you.”
“You are most welcome.” His voice was warm with pleasure. “You should rest, little one. I will watch over you until your keeper arrives.”
“Like a zoo keeper?” She gave another soft giggle, the afterglow leaving her a bit euphoric.
“If you like.” He pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Sleep, Ginette.”
“Mm…kay…” It did not take long for sleep to steal over her and drag her under. She did not wake again until she felt a body too warm to be vampire slip beneath the covers. Her nose told her who it was before her visitor spoke.
“It’s OK. It’s just me.” She opened her eyes enough to catch a glimpse of pale hair in the dim light spilling through the bathroom door. “Didn’t mean to wake you.” He stretched out beside her, taking the spot that had last been occupied by the vampire.
“S’allright.” She responded sleepily and rolled over to throw an arm across his waist. She slid one leg over his and nuzzled his shoulder sleepily. “Not used to sleeping alone, now. Woulda woke up soon, anyway.”
He stroked her hair lazily with one hand and yawned. “Things go OK with Damian? No problems with…anything?”
“Went good.” She drew in a deep breath and sighed, her breath blowing across his skin. The mingled scents of wolf, leopard, and vanilla tickled her nose. A trickle of guilt began to cut through the drowsiness. “You smell like Nathaniel. “
“Sorry. Didn’t have time to shower. I left him sleeping with Anita.” His other hand began to stroke along the back of her arm where it lay across him.
“I like the way he smells.” She shifted a little so that she could peer at his profile in the dim light. Despite the sleepiness of his voice, he was staring at the ceiling. “He was here? Is he OK?”
“He’s fine. A little shook up, maybe. A lot of people are.” He turned to look at her then. “But no one got hurt. There were enough people who kept their heads to handle the ones who didn’t.”
“A lot?” She pushed up on one elbow, sleep quickly being chased away by guilt and alarm. “How many?”
“As far as we can tell, just the ones here on this level. The people above ground didn’t feel a thing.”
That wasn’t as reassuring as he meant it to be. She’d never had that kind of power or range before. Or at least she didn’t think she had. She sank back down again and buried her face in the hollow made by his shoulder and the pillow. “Oh gods!” She breathed into the pocket of darkness.
“Why didn’t you tell me it was that bad, Gin?” He rolled over in the circle of her arm to wrap his own around her waist. “Don’t you trust me?”
“I know there are things you aren’t telling me.” She raised her face enough so she was no longer muffled by the pillow. “Things you think I should know.”
“I’ve told you everything I’m allowed to.” He didn’t try to deny it. Point for him.
“I know.” She squirmed until his grip loosened a little and she could roll onto her back to stare at the ceiling. It was lost in the dim light, but she wasn’t really looking at it anyway.
“Gin…” He sounded so tired and a little hoarse.
“Are you OK?” He’d been here, too. Like all the others on this level.
“I’m fine. Just tired. It’s been a long night.” Guilt tugged at her. A tentative loosening of her shields told her that wherever he was, he’d gotten the full force of her…what? Freak out? Break down? And guilt rolled off of him as well. Did he really blame himself for her going apeshit? She turned to him and reached out to touch his face, stroking a fingertip along his cheekbone and downwards to trace the bottom curve of his lip. Stubble tickled at her fingertips.
“It’s not your fault, Jason. I don’t tell anyone everything.”
“Not even Jo?” He caught her wandering fingers and pressed them to his lips for a second. “Why?”
“Especially not Jo. When have I had the chance? ” She closed her eyes for a moment, trying to organize her thoughts into something he would accept. “But really. Being what I am, you have to be careful. It’s easy to confuse other with self. If I give away too many pieces of myself, how will I know what’s me and what’s not?”
“You need to talk to somebody, Gin.” He held her hand firmly now. “I’m here. Why not me?”
She was silent for a long time, shoring up her shields and letting her thoughts run their course until things started to fall into place. How was she supposed to treat him? Was he a guide or a guard? A nursemaid or a jailer? Gods…He did care. But was that Jean Claude’s doing? And what she had done -- Belladonna would have killed her for much, much less. There would have to be some sort of punishment and the idea it might fall on him too only made the burden of guilt that much heavier.
“Do you want to fuck me now?” She pulled her hand gently from his grasp and resumed her soft stroking of his face, opening her eyes.
“What? Are you serious? Now?” His voice was strained. How many times had she blown him off? She’d lost track, but it had to be in the dozens. “Or are you just trying to change the subject?”
“I’m not sure what’s going to happen next. There’s got to be some fallout from last night.” She laid her palm against his chest so that she could feel the same beat that seemed to be thumping at the edge of her hearing. “Belladonna would have killed me for less. A lot less. And you’ve been really sweet to me.”
“Gin…” He sighed, the chest under her hand rising and falling. “Jean Claude isn’t like that. He won’t kill you. Not for something like this.”
“I guess I’ll find out when the vampires wake up.” He made a frustrated sound, but she didn’t wait to hear it. “If you don’t want to fuck me, roll over.”
“You are…” He growled softly unable to find the right word. But he rolled over turning his back to her. “Damn it. I’m too tired to do a decent job of it.” She got it. By too tired he meant too emotionally drained to deal with her issues. Or maybe he was scared to be this close if she lost it again. That was her fault.
“Hush.” She snuggled up to his back, molding her body to his. She slung an arm and a leg over him and buried her face in the hair at the back of his neck. She huffed softly into the fine strands and they tickled her nose. “My timing sucks. Forget it.”
“I won’t.”
“Fine.” She lay still breathing in the scent of him and the scent of Nathaniel, still clinging to his skin. Wolf and leopard and vanilla. She huffed again, making the hair stir and he shifted restlessly. She still felt guilty. And now that she’d let thoughts of consequences take root, true worry began to set in. She clung to the man in front of her, trying to think of nothing and failing. She still felt she owed him. And no matter what he said or how happy the people seemed to be here, she just couldn’t trust it. Not yet. Not now.
She knew he was still awake. Probably her tension was keeping him up. Or maybe he was worried, too.
“I don’t have any more reason to trust the vampires than Jo does.” She kissed the back of his neck, feeling the warmth of his skin on her lips. “But, Jean Claude’s plan has worked this much. He’s got one more hostage to use against me.”
“Gin…” He started to move, as if he were going to roll over. She tightened her grip on him until he stilled. She didn’t want to face him right now.
“That’s your own personal little piece of me. Keep it safe, OK?”
“I…OK.” He sounded like he wanted to talk. But she was done talking now.
“I’m going to sleep now. You should, too.” She relaxed against him and did her best to clear her mind. Nothing would happen until the vampires woke up. “Good night, Jason.”
“Good night, Gin.”
~*~*~*~*~
Fandoms: a cross over between Marvel's X-Men(to some degree) Universe and the Anita Blake Universe
Rating: no one under 18. there will be blood and gore, sex and violence. dirty language and whatever else i feel like tossing in here.
Warning: as i said, sex and violence and dirty words. said sex will include, but not be limited to, M/F, M/M, M/F/F, F/F, M/M/F and probably any other combination i can work out. weak stomach, not my fault. you have been warned.
Disclaimer: i do not own anyone from the Marvel universe. i do not own anyone from the Anita Blake universe. i don't even own Gin. i'm lucky to own myself. i swear i'm not making any money from this. i just do what the sick voices inside my head tell me to. i write purely for my enjoyment. and possibly the comments. please don't sue, harass or bother me. i have no money to pay you, but i do have a really nasty temper. and i know some good cuss words.
The House of the Rising Sun: The Index
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After a few moments of useless scrubbing with a wash cloth, Gin paused to look critically at her reflection. She was a mess, her hair snarled and make up streaked. Her eyes were still red and puffy. Her efforts to wash her face had re-opened half-healed cuts on her knuckles and the bruising was now nice and dark. The sound of voices pricked at her attention and she bit her lip. Normally, curiosity would have had her straining her ears to hear. But right now, she just wished whoever it was would be gone by the time she came out.
“A shower will fix both problems.” She mused to herself and reached for the shower knobs. Soon she was under the warm spray. Not only did the water wash away the tears, sweat and stink of her misery, it blocked out the sound of quiet voices. She tried to think of nothing at all until she was clean again. By that time, there were no more voices. She gave herself a brisk toweling off. Ignoring the hair dryer someone had provided her, she simply toweled it as dry as she could and brushed it out into a damp curtain around her shoulders.
She pulled on the faded old dorm shirt with its fat orange cat across the chest over a pair of green cotton panties. She didn’t remember buying the panties. New clothes kept showing up among the few things that had made it to St. Louis from New Orleans. Half expecting Damian to have left despite his promise, she opened the door and stepped into her room. Spotting her visitor, she froze.
Damian’s tall, lean form was lounging on her bed, his back resting against the headboard, his bare feet pale against the dark green coverlet. He’d removed the green sequin and mesh shirt that he’d worn to the party and had undone the top two buttons of his leather pants. She was suddenly acutely aware that the worn cotton of her shirt was thin enough to cling to every curve of her body. While he didn’t stare, she could feel his interest. For the first time it dawned on her that she had invited this beautiful man to spend the night. She fought the urge to fold her arms over her breasts and felt her cheeks first go cold, then warm with a blush.
“Come to bed, Ginette.” He called softly, reaching a pale hand out to her and waiting. Her gaze rested on the hand before flicking up to meet the brilliant green of his eyes. She took in the sharp contrast of his red hair spilling across his pale flesh. Uneasy, she quickly turned her gaze from him to the door to the corridor.
“I heard voices. Who was that?” She let her gaze drift back toward the bed as she waited for his response.
“Your keeper. He was concerned.” She stole another glance at his eyes to see if his expression matched the wry tone. “I told him to return before dawn.”
“Jason’s alright.” She bit her lip. “Is he in trouble?” Only now did it occur to her that what she’d done might have caused trouble for Jason. At the moment she couldn’t muster enough energy to worry about whether Remy could be held accountable as her Master. Part of her blamed him for running off and leaving her alone.
“I doubt it. Jean Claude has always been rather lenient with his pet wolf.” Damian’s outstretched hand dropped to pat the mattress next to him. “Come to bed, Ginette. There is no need to look so frightened. Nothing will happen unless you wish it.”
“I’m not frightened.” She suddenly realized that her arms had crept up until she was practically hugging herself. She dropped them to her sides and stepped closer to the bed. “I just started thinking, that’s all.”
Damian arched one eyebrow at that, but said nothing. He merely patted the bed again with an air of patient waiting. Her pulse sped a bit and she deliberately relaxed her shoulders before climbing onto the bed. She crawled closer until she was close enough to touch, but stopped to kneel before him.
“I’m sorry. I’m being silly.”
“Not silly at all.” His hand reached out to take hers and he drew it up to his lips. He brushed his mouth softly across her bruised knuckles. He pulled gently, coaxing her to come closer. “You have every reason to be cautious. Have I done something to frighten you?”
“No. Not really.” She let him draw her closer until her knees touched one leather-clad thigh. “It just occurred to me that…I really…hadn’t… thought…” Her words stuttered and died as he brought her other hand up to his mouth. This time she felt a soft tongue slide across the healing wounds. Not only could she see the pleasure in his expression as he sampled her blood, she could feel it rubbing like a cat against the still shaky edges of her shields. It left her staring at him, body tingling in response.
“Such a look. Tell me what you want, Ginette.” He pulled again on her hands, urging her to move even closer until she straddled his thighs. “What is it that you need?”
She blinked and reached out to rest her palms against his chest. His flesh was warm, so she knew that he had fed. “I want… I don’t know what I want.”
“Jason offered to stay with you.” He reached out and began stroking her shoulders, hands sliding down her shoulder blades, along her back and following the curves of her hips and thighs before reversing the journey. His touch was too firm to be called a caress, but too light for a massage. “Would you like me to call him back?”
“No.”
“Then tell me, little one.” His voice was soft, little more than a whisper.
“I want…I need…” She wanted to both lean into his careful stroking and jump up and flee the room. She wanted to crawl back into his arms and sob again. She wanted to undo the remaining buttons on his leather pants and see what they hid. She wanted to leave this place and go back to a home that was no longer there. She wanted to find Jo and disappear together into another city. She wanted to spend the night in Remy’s arms again. She wanted… “I need you to touch me.”
The stroking paused a moment before continuing. “What sort of touch, Ginette? Sex? Or to feed the skin hunger?”
“Skin hunger?”
“All of us who were born human need touch to stay sane.” He reached up to cradle her face, tilting it up until she met his gaze fully. One thumb stroked along the curve of her bottom lip. “But lycanthropes seem to need it more than most. The ones that I know seem to prefer to sleep naked in groups that Anita calls ‘puppy piles.’ Is it the touch itself you need, or something else, Ginette?”
She swallowed hard and tried to define for herself what she was feeling. While he waited, he returned to his stroking. Shoulders, back, hips, thighs and then upwards again. He repeated the circuit twice before she gathered her thoughts enough to speak. “It’s both, I think.”
“I see.” The stroking changed, becoming less soothing and more caressing. His hand drifted up to cradle her head and he leaned close for a kiss, but her hands pushed him back against the headboard. “No?”
She leaned forward to rest her forehead against his chest. “It’s just that I haven’t had sex since that last night with Jo and Remy. Before I shifted for the first time.”
“Are you afraid you cannot control your beast?” The caresses became a soothing kneading along her spine.
“Maybe.” She sighed as the kneading loosened muscles she hadn’t realized were tight. “I was waiting until I could talk to them. Mostly to Remy. Jo and I have never had that kind of relationship, really. But after the way he reacted to Jo and Asher…”
“You fear angering your master?”
“No. I’m not scared of him.” She sat back and frowned up at the vampire. “I think he’ll try to convince me that he can handle it if something went wrong. But I’m pretty sure he doesn’t have any more experience with new shifters than I do. He’ll be mad. But he won’t hurt me.”
“I would not let you harm me.” Damian’s hands ceased their movement. “I am one of the oldest vampires in this kiss. Do not worry for me.”
“I…” Gin blinked at him, trying to sort out just why she was hesitating. “I…Did someone tell you to have sex with me, Damian? Is that what Jason came to tell you?”
“No. “ The answer was firm. “He did not.”
“Oh.” She swallowed and licked her lips. “I get the feeling that if Jason wasn’t actually ordered to do it, he’s been manipulated to the point where he feels obligated. I don’t want to be anyone’s obligation.”
“And that is why you have refused him?”
“That and not being able to talk it over with Remy first.” She cocked her head and looked askance at him. “He told you, didn’t he?”
“Yes.”
“And you decided you wanted to…”
“Yes.”
“Now I really feel silly.”
“That is not how I want you to feel.” He cupped her face in his hands again and met her eyes. “I want to kiss away those tears and make love to you. I want to bury myself in you until we both are undone with pleasure. I am not afraid of your beast or of your master. “
“Oh.” Her eyes were wide with surprise and her mouth slightly open. When he leaned close for a kiss, this time she drew closer. The kiss began as a soft exploration and quickly became a heated exchange of need and desire. Gin slid closer until she could she could feel the buttons of his fly through the thin cotton of her panties and the pressure of what was beneath it. She moaned softly at the surge of need it sent through her. Her hands slid behind his neck to bury themselves in the brilliant red silk of his hair. She’d never seen the like before and the temptation to play with it was almost a compulsion.
Damian responded with a groan of his own and this time when his hands slid down her body, they stopped to cup her breasts, thumbs stroking across nipples gone hard and sensitive. Electric tingles sparked along her nerves to her center and she squirmed against him. Damian’s lips slid from hers with a soft chuckle, moving along the line of her jaw and lower to nibble and kiss down the line of her neck. Each time she felt the tiny prick of a fang, shivers skittered along her skin. It left her gasping and squirming.
“Oh god, Damian!” It was too much and she buried her face in his neck and shuddered against his body. The vampire chuckled in her ear as he slipped his hands beneath the hem of her shirt to play along the edges of her panties.
“Are you so sensitive in other places?” His fingers skimmed across the cotton, playing across more intimate things than her neck. She whimpered as they grazed over her clit. Her hips moved of their own accord, seeking more contact. “Mmm, yes.” He murmured, grazing that spot again before moving lower. The gentle caressing was maddening and she sat back on his thighs to grab the hem of her nightshirt and peel it off impatiently. She tossed it aside, not caring where it landed.
Damian’s expression was hungry as his eyes moved over her body. He reached out for her, taking her breast in one hand while the other slipped around her body to pull her up to her knees so that he could bend down take a nipple in his mouth. He began to lick and suck roll the hard bit of flesh with his tongue while his hair fell in a cool spill against her skin. The scent of him mingled with the scent of her own arousal and she felt the cat inside her stir. The graze of a fang made her cry out. He lifted his head to gaze down at her.
“Please, Damian. I need more.”
“So greedy.” He smiled and shook his head enough to send his hair sliding across his shoulders. She bit her lip and reached out to stroke across his ribs, exploring the pale, muscled frame. He was so much paler than anyone she’d ever seen, even other vampires. It was if a marble statue had somehow sprung to life. She drew her hands downwards, fingernails trailing across his skin until she reached the waistband of his pants. The leather was supple and warm from the heat of their bodies. She toyed with the top button until it sprang free from its hole. It was enough to let her catch a glimpse of scarlet hair before he drew her hand away.
“Not yet.” He settled her hand on his shoulder. “I want to see you take your pleasure before I take mine.”
“What?” Her question was answered as his hand moved from her breast downwards to slide beneath the elastic of her panties. “Oh!” She exclaimed when his fingers found her clit and began to toy with it. She found herself gripping his shoulder hard as he began to explore her most sensitive parts. Her body danced in response to his motions, hips jerking and twitching. When he slid a finger inside her, she moaned her need. A second followed and she found herself grinding against it. The cat inside her was now fully awake, adding its primal hunger to her own desire.
“Hold on to me, Ginette.” His fingers paused until she placed both arms around his shoulders. “You need think of nothing but pleasure and controlling your beast.”
“What if I can’t?” She whispered.
“Tell me to stop. We will wait until you have control and try again.” His tone was firm and the confidence in it helped settle the butterflies in her stomach. The sense of the cat receded a little. He leaned down press his lips against her temple. Then his fingers resumed their exploration.
At first his touch was lingering and gentle, but as he plumbed the secrets of her body his touches grew more purposeful. When he found the spot inside her and began to work at it, she started to shake and whimper. Pleasure built until it was nearly pain, but release hovered just out of reach. Gin’s heart pounded as she watched the sleek, black form of her leopard circling in her mind’s eye. It snarled at her and she whimpered.
“Ginette!” The sharpness of his tone told her that it wasn’t the first time he’d spoken. Her eyes snapped open to focus on him. She hadn’t realized she’d closed them. “Are you fighting me or your beast?”
“I…it’s really close, Damian.” She shuddered, her body caught on the edge of frustration. “She’s right there, snarling at me.”
“No doubt she feels your frustration.” He murmured reassuringly. “She snarls because you are frightened.”
“I’m not…”
“Then relax. Do not fight the pleasure.” He pushed her gently back until he could claim her lips in a kiss. It was hungry and fierce. As his tongue pierced her mouth, his fingers began to move inside her with a new relentlessness. She groaned into his mouth and returned his kiss with fervor. He held her tightly as his fingers worked at that spot inside her, his thumb circling her clit until she writhed against him. The pleasure peaked again and she hovered at the edge for a heart-stopping moment before it crashed over her. Her body arched and bucked, but his arm was like steel around her. He drew back from her mouth to watch her as she climaxed. He murmured words of encouragement while her body twitched and shuddered, his fingers still working, prolonging the release and drawing hoarse cries from her throat.
Before one orgasm was quite over, the next began and she whimpered, her senses exploding again and again. Damian’s voice was a steady murmur of sound while his fingers continued to work at her. It was only when she mustered enough wit to cry “Enough, Damian. Enough…gods…” that he stilled his fingers and withdrew them. She went limp against him and he shifted to cradle her against his chest. She lay there panting, fingers idly mapping out a maze of scars made long before she was born while he stroked her hair.
“Are you all right, little one?” He spoke after several long moments of silence.
“Yeah. Better than all right.” She giggled wearily. “Gods did I need that. I feel like my whole body has turned to jelly.”
Damian chuckled softly. “I hope I have not worn you out?”
“No. I just need a breather. Your turn next?”
“Oh. I think I can manage to pleasure us both.” He skimmed a hand along her inner thigh and she gasped. “If you are ready?”
“Yes. I think so.” She shivered, her nipples crinkling harder in anticipation. She slid from his lap to let him slide out of his pants, watching him with interest while she slipped out of her panties. Her eyes followed as the soft leather revealed more impossibly pale flesh. She swallowed hard to see him long and straight and ready for her, framed with scarlet that matched the hair on his head. She reached out to touch it, sliding her palm along the length and curling her fingers around it, enjoying the smooth glide of it against her skin. The vampire closed his eyes and let out a slow breath. A tiny pearl of moisture already beaded the tip and she smoothed it over the head with her thumb. He made a pleased sound deep in his throat.
His reaction made her smile and she gave another slow, teasing stroke before releasing him and settling herself at the head of the bed. Her eyes glittered with interest as she watched him recover himself, eyes fluttering open to pin her with their hungry gaze. Things deep inside her tightened as he moved to kneel between her thighs. He seemed to tower over her and breath sped in anticipation. She bit her lip and opened a bit wider in invitation.
Damian’s lips curved in a smile as he reached down to stroke her thighs, pressing them a little farther apart. He took a moment to simply caress her, eyes studying her face as she squirmed in reaction. A tiny sound escaped her when his fingers grazed the edges of her sex.
He seemed to take the sound as a signal that she was ready. He shifted slightly, grasping his length in one hand to guide it as he began to slide it slowly inside her. Gin moaned and writhed, hips lifting to meet him. He pressed forward until their lower bodies met, his upper body suspended above her, supported by his strong arms. She reached up to draw her fingernails lightly across his chest, tracing a pattern that wandered from one scar to the next and glided across his ribs. He drew in a shaky breath, then began to move.
He started with long, slow strokes. He slid in and out of her, nearly drawing himself out completely, then plunging as deep as it was possible to go. She moaned with each thrust, hips rocking to match his rhythm, hands gliding and exploring every bit of skin she could reach. Gradually the strokes came faster and harder. She groaned her approval, her hands gripping at his forearms as she began to writhe beneath him.
“More, Damian. Please. Faster.” She pleaded, feeling the pleasure coiling tight inside her. The vampire obeyed, his rhythm changing to meet her demands. “Harder.” She whispered, her back arching, hips rising to meet him. He grunted an assent and his next thrust made her cry out, her grip on his arms tightening as her body arched and spasmed beneath him. He groaned as her inner muscles clutched at him and he stilled his motion until she went limp.
“Good?” He asked, his voice thick with his own need. She nodded her head, letting her hands fall limp to the bed on either side of her body. “No trouble from your beast?”
“No trouble.” She panted, her breasts moving with the rise and fall of her chest. He smiled down at her and reached down to grasp first one wrist, then the other and pin them to the bed with his weight. She tested his grip, pulling experimentally against his grasp for a moment before subsiding without a protest. She swallowed hard, then deliberately squeezed the muscles that still held him inside her. His hips shifted forward in response.
“Eager, aren’t you?” He didn’t wait for an answer, but started moving again. This time he set his own pace, a deep steady thrusting that had her squirming and whimpering beneath him. It only took a few moments for her to reach her pinnacle again, her body bucking and pulling against his grasp. This time he didn’t stop, simply kept up his pace. She cried out wordlessly as a second crest hit her before the first had finished. With the third wave, she raised her legs to wrap them around his hips, body struggling to pull him even deeper. The change in angle undid his control and his hips thrust hard enough to draw a cry of protest from her just before another orgasm started its dance along her body. He spent himself with a hoarse groan while her muscles spasmed around him, milking him.
He held himself still until her body slowly relaxed beneath him. Then pulled away from her, rolling to the side so that he could pull her close against his body. He let her rest her cheek against his shoulder and rested his chin against her hair while he began to stroke her again in long, soothing motions.
“Feeling better, now?” His voice was a low rumble in her ear.
“I feel like a limp noodle.” She giggled wearily. “Like a very satisfied limp noodle.” He smiled, pleased.
“I think I shall envy your master more than a little.” He paused his stroking to push a few strands of damp hair from her cheek. “Now that I have had a taste.”
“You were ama-“ she tried to stifle a yawn and lost. “Amazing. Thank you.”
“You are most welcome.” His voice was warm with pleasure. “You should rest, little one. I will watch over you until your keeper arrives.”
“Like a zoo keeper?” She gave another soft giggle, the afterglow leaving her a bit euphoric.
“If you like.” He pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Sleep, Ginette.”
“Mm…kay…” It did not take long for sleep to steal over her and drag her under. She did not wake again until she felt a body too warm to be vampire slip beneath the covers. Her nose told her who it was before her visitor spoke.
“It’s OK. It’s just me.” She opened her eyes enough to catch a glimpse of pale hair in the dim light spilling through the bathroom door. “Didn’t mean to wake you.” He stretched out beside her, taking the spot that had last been occupied by the vampire.
“S’allright.” She responded sleepily and rolled over to throw an arm across his waist. She slid one leg over his and nuzzled his shoulder sleepily. “Not used to sleeping alone, now. Woulda woke up soon, anyway.”
He stroked her hair lazily with one hand and yawned. “Things go OK with Damian? No problems with…anything?”
“Went good.” She drew in a deep breath and sighed, her breath blowing across his skin. The mingled scents of wolf, leopard, and vanilla tickled her nose. A trickle of guilt began to cut through the drowsiness. “You smell like Nathaniel. “
“Sorry. Didn’t have time to shower. I left him sleeping with Anita.” His other hand began to stroke along the back of her arm where it lay across him.
“I like the way he smells.” She shifted a little so that she could peer at his profile in the dim light. Despite the sleepiness of his voice, he was staring at the ceiling. “He was here? Is he OK?”
“He’s fine. A little shook up, maybe. A lot of people are.” He turned to look at her then. “But no one got hurt. There were enough people who kept their heads to handle the ones who didn’t.”
“A lot?” She pushed up on one elbow, sleep quickly being chased away by guilt and alarm. “How many?”
“As far as we can tell, just the ones here on this level. The people above ground didn’t feel a thing.”
That wasn’t as reassuring as he meant it to be. She’d never had that kind of power or range before. Or at least she didn’t think she had. She sank back down again and buried her face in the hollow made by his shoulder and the pillow. “Oh gods!” She breathed into the pocket of darkness.
“Why didn’t you tell me it was that bad, Gin?” He rolled over in the circle of her arm to wrap his own around her waist. “Don’t you trust me?”
“I know there are things you aren’t telling me.” She raised her face enough so she was no longer muffled by the pillow. “Things you think I should know.”
“I’ve told you everything I’m allowed to.” He didn’t try to deny it. Point for him.
“I know.” She squirmed until his grip loosened a little and she could roll onto her back to stare at the ceiling. It was lost in the dim light, but she wasn’t really looking at it anyway.
“Gin…” He sounded so tired and a little hoarse.
“Are you OK?” He’d been here, too. Like all the others on this level.
“I’m fine. Just tired. It’s been a long night.” Guilt tugged at her. A tentative loosening of her shields told her that wherever he was, he’d gotten the full force of her…what? Freak out? Break down? And guilt rolled off of him as well. Did he really blame himself for her going apeshit? She turned to him and reached out to touch his face, stroking a fingertip along his cheekbone and downwards to trace the bottom curve of his lip. Stubble tickled at her fingertips.
“It’s not your fault, Jason. I don’t tell anyone everything.”
“Not even Jo?” He caught her wandering fingers and pressed them to his lips for a second. “Why?”
“Especially not Jo. When have I had the chance? ” She closed her eyes for a moment, trying to organize her thoughts into something he would accept. “But really. Being what I am, you have to be careful. It’s easy to confuse other with self. If I give away too many pieces of myself, how will I know what’s me and what’s not?”
“You need to talk to somebody, Gin.” He held her hand firmly now. “I’m here. Why not me?”
She was silent for a long time, shoring up her shields and letting her thoughts run their course until things started to fall into place. How was she supposed to treat him? Was he a guide or a guard? A nursemaid or a jailer? Gods…He did care. But was that Jean Claude’s doing? And what she had done -- Belladonna would have killed her for much, much less. There would have to be some sort of punishment and the idea it might fall on him too only made the burden of guilt that much heavier.
“Do you want to fuck me now?” She pulled her hand gently from his grasp and resumed her soft stroking of his face, opening her eyes.
“What? Are you serious? Now?” His voice was strained. How many times had she blown him off? She’d lost track, but it had to be in the dozens. “Or are you just trying to change the subject?”
“I’m not sure what’s going to happen next. There’s got to be some fallout from last night.” She laid her palm against his chest so that she could feel the same beat that seemed to be thumping at the edge of her hearing. “Belladonna would have killed me for less. A lot less. And you’ve been really sweet to me.”
“Gin…” He sighed, the chest under her hand rising and falling. “Jean Claude isn’t like that. He won’t kill you. Not for something like this.”
“I guess I’ll find out when the vampires wake up.” He made a frustrated sound, but she didn’t wait to hear it. “If you don’t want to fuck me, roll over.”
“You are…” He growled softly unable to find the right word. But he rolled over turning his back to her. “Damn it. I’m too tired to do a decent job of it.” She got it. By too tired he meant too emotionally drained to deal with her issues. Or maybe he was scared to be this close if she lost it again. That was her fault.
“Hush.” She snuggled up to his back, molding her body to his. She slung an arm and a leg over him and buried her face in the hair at the back of his neck. She huffed softly into the fine strands and they tickled her nose. “My timing sucks. Forget it.”
“I won’t.”
“Fine.” She lay still breathing in the scent of him and the scent of Nathaniel, still clinging to his skin. Wolf and leopard and vanilla. She huffed again, making the hair stir and he shifted restlessly. She still felt guilty. And now that she’d let thoughts of consequences take root, true worry began to set in. She clung to the man in front of her, trying to think of nothing and failing. She still felt she owed him. And no matter what he said or how happy the people seemed to be here, she just couldn’t trust it. Not yet. Not now.
She knew he was still awake. Probably her tension was keeping him up. Or maybe he was worried, too.
“I don’t have any more reason to trust the vampires than Jo does.” She kissed the back of his neck, feeling the warmth of his skin on her lips. “But, Jean Claude’s plan has worked this much. He’s got one more hostage to use against me.”
“Gin…” He started to move, as if he were going to roll over. She tightened her grip on him until he stilled. She didn’t want to face him right now.
“That’s your own personal little piece of me. Keep it safe, OK?”
“I…OK.” He sounded like he wanted to talk. But she was done talking now.
“I’m going to sleep now. You should, too.” She relaxed against him and did her best to clear her mind. Nothing would happen until the vampires woke up. “Good night, Jason.”
“Good night, Gin.”
~*~*~*~*~