Miranda Torres (sirensparrow) wrote in light_of_may, @ 2009-11-13 17:47:00 |
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Entry tags: | 2009-06-21 |
Control
Who: Miranda and Jacob
Where: Ann Arbor
When: Evening Hour
Warning: NSFW
Waiting around for someone else to discover information about himself was not Jacob's idea of fun. He was supposed to have a firm handle on his own situation, and this lack of control was frustrating and aggravating to the man.
Somehow, running into Miranda again, on his way back from checking out yet another source of resource, had fit in to his aggravated state rather well. The mutual decision to get a hotel room had been less a lengthy discussion, and more a suggestion that Miranda get a hotel room rather than both of them having to drive back to Scarlet Oak. Jacob had assented easily, knowing that the two of them were fairly guaranteed to work off some frustration.
They got as far as the elevator doors closing in front of them before his hands were at her curved hips beneath the fabric of her clothes, turning her toward him before his mouth covered hers.
She had been more than pleased to see Jacob out in Ann Arbor. Miranda had spend her evening working her wiles on a man, dragging him out to an alley only to have him fail to satisfy her. To put it bluntly, he couldn't get it up. So she sang and put him out of his misery, and saved other women from the disappointment. But that meant she'd only scratched on itch. And, she'd always said, if given the chance, she would love to have another night with Jacob.
So she had put up for a hotel room, not wanting to drive far in order to finally get what she'd really wanted when she went out that night. The elevator dinged as it closed and he pulled her to him, the fabric of her black dress rising a little as he gripped her hips. Her mouth opened to his instantly as she pressed her body against his. One hand gripped his upper arm, the other slid into his hair.
There was an air of bottled anger and frustration that had sparked and sizzled around him, only growing with intensity with time, making Jacob's mouth harder against hers, his hands gripping more tightly. Every ounce of feeling was pouring into his actions as it burned in his veins, only pausing to hit the button to stop the elevator, closing the world around them for a stolen time.
He pressed her backwards against one smooth elevator wall, trapping her between it and the hardness of his body, as his tongue thrust past her painted lips to delve into her mouth. To slide slickly across hers, while his hands returned to her hips to pull her upwards enough that when one of his hands moved between them, his fingers edged over the thin fabric of her underwear. Fingertips traced and pressed the heat he could feel through the lingerie, while he moved one of his feet forward enough to use his knee to push her thighs further apart.
There was nothing subtle about what he wanted from her, from the moment he'd pulled her close. Miranda let out a soft noise of submission as he stopped the elevator, pressing that hard body of his against hers and she thanked god she was such a contrast to him. He felt damn good. His fingers pressed against her and she gasped, head tipping backwards. She moved her thighs as he positioned her and her fingers curled in his jacket.
He had a heat, a fire, a purpose and they weren't making it to the room before they satisfied him. She slipped one hand beneath his jacket, tugging his shirt up a bit so she could drag her nails over his skin, arching against him. She was more than willing to start here and now, have him possess her.
Not content to linger with fingertips over the fabric that covered her mound, Jacob moved his hand first up, and then under the band of her underwear pressing through dark curls barely touch the wet heat of her with the very tips of his fingers. His thumb dragged purposefully over the sensitive little bundle of nerves he found with ease, before he dipped his forefinger into her slick entrance, pushing inside her as his mouth moved down to the side of her throat.
He wasn't afraid to admit that he liked the feel of her nails lightly raking over his skin, and showed his approval by adding another finger into her, slowly pumping into and out of her.
There was no way they were going anywhere for the time being, with the smell of arousal in the air, and her luscious curves molded against the hard planes of his body.
Miranda let out a throaty moan as he touched her, fingers curling inside her. Her hands moved, pushing at his jacket and pulling at his shirt, needing to feel more of him, touch more of him than she currently was. It had been a very long time since she'd gone at it like this with anyone in an elevator and she remembered her first time. Too much fumbling then. This, god, Jacob knew exactly what to do to make her come undone and she arched her hips, trying to get closer to his hand, to draw his fingers deeper inside her.
She could smell herself in the air around them and she grinned, biting her lip as his fingers hit just the right spot to make her legs shake. "Fuck," she breathed out, eyes falling closed as her hands gripped him under his shirt as if digging her fingers into his flesh could make it possible for him to be even closer.
The movements of his fingers within her were not constrained to simply thrusting inside her, but searching for that internal spot with each slick slide, adding internal pressure as he curled his fingers into her. Jacob couldn't quite oblige her in removing his shirt and jacket just then, not because they were in elevator as it would be ridiculous to worry about being caught with his jacket off when the fingers of one hand were buried inside her, his thumb making sweeps against her clit, wanting to make her come apart under his hand.
He scraped his teeth against her pulse point as he pressed his entire body tighter against her, as much as he could, the evidence of what the feel and sound of her was doing to him hard against the inside of one of her thighs.
She whimpered again as she felt him hit that spot once more and Miranda clung to him, trying to hold off as long as she could. It wasn't easy. The feel of what he was doing to her, the effect it was having on him. It was intoxicating and she found she missed that first night, glad they bumped into each other. Especially since they both seemed to need this so badly. He hit it again and she let out a moan as his teeth scraped her skin. "Just like that," she breathed encouragingly. She was no delicate flower; she could handle him manhandling her, biting her. The idea of it all turned her on more and she arched again.
Between his fingers curling over that spot so few found within her and his thumb brushing the nerves that made her shudder, it didn't take long for her to come against his hand, hard, her body arching against his as she rode it out. When she had come down from her high, she slipped one hand back into his hair and forced his mouth against hers, kissing him hungrily.
Minute waves of clenching intimate muscles around his fingers told him that she was close, with his mouth against her throat and his body pushing her against the wall behind her. The encouragement she gave in a husky whisper urged on another scrape of his teeth, leaving a pinkened mark in his wake, his hand working diligently between her spread thighs to bring her the pleasure she needed and he needed to give.
Jacob pulled back enough to watch her face as she came, his fingers slowing but not quite stopping as he eased her through the comedown. Their kiss was bruising then, something he'd feel on his mouth for sometime afterwards, a reminder that he hadn't stood completely idly by with things out of his control. The best way to describe the way his mouth over over hers, the way his tongue thrust into her welcoming mouth and his teeth nipped at her bottom lip was that he simply took her mouth. Leaving an imprint of himself behind.
The kiss was not broken as his fingers were removed from the wetness between her legs, as he pulled off his jacket and let it fall. They had to pause long enough for him to strip off his gray shirt and pull it over his head before tossing it away, but he captured her mouth again. When his hand cupped her breast, wanting skin on skin contact, Jacob only went so far as to drag the top of her dress down to just below her breasts, along with the cups of her bra, exposing them, before filling his hand with the warm, heavy weight of one.
Tomorrow she would be sore. Tomorrow she would bear the marks of this night, bruised lips, marks on her neck, maybe even hand-shaped bruises on her hips. And Miranda didn't care. Right now, she was focused on tonight, how she was aching the moment his fingers left her warmth. How her own tongue responded to his in her mouth, inviting it and then pressing back, warring for the dominance she knew she wouldn't have. Not tonight. She arched again, lifting a leg and wrapping it around him, now able to feel how much he was reacting to this between her thighs and she let out a noise of approval, desire, into their kiss.
She helped him get rid of the pesky jacket, a flurry of fingers and hands as they broke apart to get that damn shirt out of the way and then his mouth was crushing hers again and she made the pretense of fighting back a little, knowing how it turned her on, hoping it would only do the same for him. He was all over her, and she could feel him and it was a heady thing and she dragged her nails over his back as he pulled down her dress and her bra, touching her skin and making her moan deep. Miranda was utterly at his mercy and it seemed like he had none that night.
There was a primordial part of Jacob that rather liked the idea that he was leaving marks from their encounter on her skin, the whole thing was edged with roughness, but felt so alive for that fact. His hand made its way to the black fabric of panties again, this time peeling them down until they left her bare, as her leg went around him. His hips pressed again forward, pressing his erection against the apex of her thighs, only the material of his jeans keeping them apart.
The fight for dominance, he would surely win, but with her lingering struggle to come out on top, and her nails raking over the bare skin of his back, he was hardly complaining. With one of his hands busily kneading and stroking over the exposed flesh of her breast, his other reached between them to loose the button on his jeans and then unzip his pants slowly. The release of confining pressure had him breathing into the kiss, no longer trapped beneath heavy fabric, already was he able to imagine the feel of driving himself deeply inside her.
She moaned, head falling back as she felt him pressed against her. That was exactly where she wanted him. Her hips arched against his clothed body, fingers curling in his hair and tugging. Miranda would struggle the whole time, knowing how it made her feel. And, clearly, how it was making him feel. She was very pleased with herself.
While he touched her, molding her body to his will, she fumbled for the purse that was at her feet, strap still somehow within her reach. Thank heavens for small miracles. Her fingers fumbled, not wanting to pull away from him at all, even if it was to wrap her slender fingers around the little foil packet. Her free hand wrapped around him, stroking him as she pulled him closer. She tore the packet with her teeth, sliding the condom onto his length, all the while thinking how badly she needed him sheathed within her again.
His pants were pushed down to completely free himself, while Miranda was reaching for her bag, presumably to get protection. Jacob had one or two zipped away in an inside pocket of his jacket, but it was firmly out of reach at the moment, and pulling away from her just then would have been physically painful. Between the tugging of her fingers in his hair, and the feel of her fingers stroking over hardened and sensitized flesh, he groaned low in his throat against the skin over her collarbone.
Ducking his head for a moment, as a way to regain a little control over himself as talented fingers rolled latex over him, his mouth covered the tip of the breast not covered by his hand. Strong sucks against the hardened peak of it and he drew her nipple into his mouth, his tongue curling around it. When he pulled away, it was to nip lightly with his teeth at the skin on the soft curve of her breast, and to drive himself up into her in one smooth motion. Nothing sweet, gentle, or drawn out, but joining them all the same.
That groan had her pleased. His mouth against her skin had her distracted, gasping, moaning as she felt his actions shoot straight between her thighs. It was rough, needy. And she loved how it made her feel. His teeth moved against her skin again and she gasped. Suddenly he was inside her and she moaned, arching her body against his as he took her against the wall of the elevator. It had been a long time since she'd been throughly taken.
Miranda scraped her nails over the skin of his back, knowing no part of this would be careful, nor would it be the kind of love making she occasionally enjoyed. This was hard, fast, needy, desperate for something. She wasn't sure what it was and quite frankly, she didn't care. Her hips snapped against his, drawing him into her each time she moved, clenching to keep him there before releasing him again.
From the first thrust to the second, and then the third, within the stretching walls of her body as he knew she purposefully tightened around him, Jacob found that regular, pulsing cadence that, while lacking gentleness, was sure to drive them into pure pleasure. Anger and frustration were turned into strong surges to fairly imprint himself bodily into her skin and body, but without ignoring her needs and desires. He planted a hand against the wall by her head for added leverage as he leaned into her, the other cupping and sliding over every inch of exposed skin that was available, pausing here and there to grasp to aid the angle he wanted, or to distract her with a hard knead of one breast.
It was much an exorcism of sorts as a thrumming desire to lose himself within her, with the sensation of slick heat gripping him, and her soft body trapped between his and the wall behind her.
There was a deep rooted passion behind his actions, the way he moved within her and she found it enticing. Her body was pressed between the cool wall and his heated flesh and she moaned, fingers of one hand finding purchase in his shoulder as they moved together. His fingers gripped her skin, her body, making her moan as he found new spots to drive her completely insane.
Miranda shuddered and moaned, her skin feeling electric as he pressed inside her. All she could do, aside from her firm grip and the scrape of polished nails against his skin, was make noises. Moans, sighs, gasps, whimpers. As much as she might fight against him, push and press, she was his to do with as he desired.
It was enough, that she was physically there, as well as seemingly as caught in this bubble of time with the universe unimportant but for their actions in the here and now. Nothing else mattered but the slick and steady slide between them, the sounds she made filling his ears and keeping him pinned where they were, when they were. She was scoring his shoulders and back, urging him on, but he still wanted more.
Jacob withdrew from her without warning, and this time did not slide immediately back inside her, but instead stepped away enough that she would be forced to remove her leg from his hip and set it back down on the ground. Once that was accomplished, he turned her where she stood, so that she now faced the elevator wall. His right hand slid around her body to play for a moment or two over her clit, pulling her hips backwards with the same movement, while his left arm braced his position on the wall in front of them both. Forearm firmly in place, he dipped his body before pushing up and hilting himself within her once more.
His pulling away from her left her confused for a moment amidst the heady sensation of being drawn to that edge. Miranda looked at him with some confusion and then she was pressed face first into the wall. Well, that was certainly different and she moaned as he played with the tiny bundle of nerves that made her legs tremble. This was agony, the way he was torturing her and she was throughly enjoying every moment of it.
Jacob pressed back into her heat and she gasped, moaning as she pressed her body back against his. She braced on hand on the wall, near his as they moved in this new position, her other hand gripping the arm who's hand was currently occupied in trying to make her come undone. This was hot and she knew he could tell by how slick and wet she was as he moved against her body. Her fingernails dug into his skin and her head fell back as she moaned, eyes closing, just focusing on how it felt.
From this position he was nearly surrounding her, his body against hers and one arm wrapped around her hip, fingers renewing their barely brushing contact with the little nub that throbbed beneath his fingertips. Jacob's breathing was coming faster now, as he surged into her with every push of his lower body, the rhythm slower and darker now. Angling his hips upwards, his hardness buried inside her was able to press against new territory, with each and every thrust. It was nearly too much to stand, being encased in her hot, tight sheath, feeling just how turned on she was with the intimate wetness.
His hand pulled her hips backward as he took a step away from the wall, taking her with him, the forearm he had braced was now a splayed hand, as their bodies leant forward to keep balanced. He was not entirely silent with muffled moans and soft grunts of effort pressed into the skin of the back of her shoulder, the side of her neck.
He was hitting that spot again and she was gasping, fingers tightening their hold on whatever bits of his flesh she could reach, which were arms at this point. He was going slower, but so much deeper and she felt herself being pushed towards the edge, towards oblivion. He filled her and she could barely breathe with the heady scent of their joined bodies filling the small, enclosed space that was their own personal escape from everything else. She breathed his name as she reached back to slip her fingers into his hair again, to let them find something to hold.
Miranda let him pull them from the wall, body just moving naturally with his, following his lead. The sounds she elicited from him, because of the effect her body was having on his, was like a drug, a power trip and it went straight to her groin. Her walls clenched tighter around him as he brought her dangerously close to the edge again.
They did not move completely away from the wall, just were no longer pressed up against it, changing their angle to an even more pleasurable one. So that he could reach that much deeper inside her, and had this almost primative feel to the way he was able fill her welcoming heat this way. The mirrored walls that had been of little notice before, now that they were both facing the wall in front of them, it clearly displayed the sight of him moving behind her, as she clung to his arms. They were completely braced by his hand against the wall, but not obscured by it on the silver surface.
He could see every gasp on her lips as well as hear them, see the unrestrained picture she made with her head flung back with rich curls dark against his paler skin, watch as his fingers parted her to brush and tease against a bundle of nerves between her legs, as he thrust heavily upward into her. Neither were completely undressed, his pants just shoved far enough out of the way for access, her dress pushed up at the bottom and peeled down at the top so that her bare breasts and dripping curls were both on display.
Jacob groaned as his eyes focused on the sight in front of them, his mouth biting at the crook of the neck, hard enough to be felt but light enough to keep from piercing her skin. He was nearing the edge, and his thumb and forefinger flicked at and dragged over her clit one after the other, pushing her with him.
It took her eyes a moment to focus and she saw them in the mirror before her. Oh, god, the elevator was a brilliant idea and she grinned at him before moaned again, forcing her eyes to remain on the mirror, on his eyes. Miranda watched as much as she felt his fingers touch her clit, making her shake against him. The sight of them, how desperately they had moved to reach this point, the sight of him moving in and out of her pulsing heat was adding to the push towards the edge as she felt her entire body prepare to unravel.
It started in her toes, still encased in black pumps, her thong around one ankle. The feel of his teeth on her skin again set her skin on fire, had her body clenching tighter around him. His fingers moved with a purpose over her and she tried to hold off for another moment but failed, too turned on, too focused on feeling, too filled, too possessed to even think about stopping. She came, harder, harder than she had in a while, her fingers digging into his skin as she cried out his name, watching him as her entire body shook, trembled and melted against his own.
Shivers and trembles within her vibrated against his fingers, his body, the hardness of him hilted within her, skips and jumps of muscles clenching in readiness, with his dark green eyes locked on hers in the reflection of the mirror. Very little color remained of the irises of his eyes, nearly totally taken over by the endless blackness of his widely blow pupils, seeming jade around onyx as they rushed for the pleasure just ahead.
As much as she attempted to fight off her coming orgasm, he pushed just as hard to throw her over the line until she came around him, knowing his own was rapidly closing in on him. All it took once the mixture of vision of her succumbing to her climax and nearly painful sensations of bodily pleasure of her sheath milking him, and Jacob swiftly followed her into that intense burst of pleasure. He plunged into that crest with a few last thrusts into her, groaning her name out against her throat as he spilled himself inside her. Every single muscle felt the wave of his release, bringing with it a temporary calm and relaxation, the frustration and anger momentarily lost.
He panted against her as his hand still held them upright, but he kept his eyes on hers all the while.
She let him keep them standing as she caught her breath again. Miranda smiled at him, sated for the moment. Leaning back against him, she watching him in the mirror. "Better?" she teased with a light laugh. Her entire body felt like it was jelly, the mark of very, very good sex and she knew their night was just beginning. She smoothed her hands over his arms, eyes never leaving his. They really needed to run into each other more often.
Once she was satisfied she had enough control over her own legs, she shifted, letting him slip from inside her and taking a step forward. Miranda kicked off her underwear, smoothing out the bottom of the dress and pulling the top up to cover her enough to get to the room that was theirs for the night. Bending, and partly giving him a show as the skirt of her dress rode up over her ass, she picked up the damp lace. She had plans for him now. Plans that made for an interesting night.
As Jacob's breathing evened out, his hand moved away from between her legs, stroking over the front of one of her spread thighs. He nodded, "Yeah," it had been something he had not known he'd needed, but it had proven that he most definitely had. There was a mark on her shoulder, and he'd been none too gentle with the rest of her, or her with her nails, but neither of them had been complaining. The edge of roughness between them had been exactly what they needed just then, what he'd needed, a pleasurable but minor fight of dominance and power.
They moved in opposite directions then, and he withdrew himself, removing the condom and began setting himself back to rights. Whoever emptied the trashcan below the floor buttons later would just have to deal. He pulled his shirt back on over his head, with just enough time to see what her dress did certainly not cover. Suddenly he was glad they'd decided on an actual room, even if they hadn't made it there for the first round. For what was only the first round. Jacob hit the button to send them to their floor and out of their temporary limbo, scooping up his jacket. The heavy weight in the fabric reminded him of the hidden weapon there, and the one in his boot, as he did not put it back on, but instead held it in one hand.
The elevator started to move again and she ran a hand through her curls, shaking them out, glad she's left it down for the night. They were a little damp and, as she glanced over at the wall they'd just been against, she could see hand prints and the spots where her body had connected with the glass. Miranda had to admit that was the hottest sex she'd had in a long time. The ding of opening doors broke her thoughts as they exited the elevator. She glanced at the signs and down at the plastic card meant to be their room key for the night. The concierge had been nice enough to write the room number down on a post it, bless her heart, because Miranda could barely remember her own name right now.
Her legs moved in practiced strides, naturally moving in a way that accentuated her body. Not that she really had the need. He was hers to play with for the night. That was really all she wanted. Pausing, she slid the piece of plastic into the lock, removing it and watching the light turn green perfect. Her fingers reached around the door as she pushed it open, immediately putting the do not disturb sign on the other side as she waited a half a second for him to enter the room before grabbing his shirt and bringing his body back in contact with hers. "Do you need a break or are you ready for round two?" she practically purred as she brought their lips together again, locking the door without even looking at it.
Walking along beside her, Jacob was nearly silent, including his footsteps on the ground, instincts trained in to the bone for hunting had simply bled into everyday life, and he'd never bothered to notice. Miranda seemed to find the room easily enough, her leading the way, and they were soon at the door to their room for the night. In another life, he might have grinned in triumph as she put the sign into place and pulled him forward when he followed her inside, but in this one he dove into her mouth with his tongue, pausing only to pull lightly at her bottom lip with his teeth before he nodded. "Actually, I could use a shower," and it was plain that he didn't mean by himself.
Oh, this man was clever. Miranda moaned softly as he pulled her lip, eyes flicking up to his at the mention of a shower. "Think that's a good idea," she breathed. Her fingers curled in the sides of his shirt as she dropped her purse and the room key right there in the small entry way, half curious when they would get to the bed. But that thought was gone as she dragged his shirt over his head and tossed it aside. She kicked off her heels, feet happy to be flat, but she was sad to lose the height she had in them, the height that brought her closer to his. Her fingers gripped his flesh as she moved towards the small bathroom. Who ever designed these things was an idiot. How were people supposed to move in them, let alone have sex in them?
Obliging her gripping hands, he helped her rid him of his shirt, Jacob threw his jacket on a nearby chair. After, of course, retrieving a small foil packet from one inside pocket, palming the package. He was glad to be rid of the shirt just then, where the sheen of sweat that had touched his skin from their performance in the mirrored elevator had made the cloth stick to his skin. The small hands that held onto his side and shoulder, pulling him with her into the bathroom, they were delicate, but he knew how strong her grip could be, and the faint bite of her nails into his skin. Once inside the tiled room, this time it was his much larger hands that moved to pull her against him for a thorough kiss, before he stepped away to strip away boots, socks and jeans.
She didn't like the fact that he had to step away, liking the way he pressed against her too much, but being naked was kind of key at this point. As much fun as the elevator had been, she wanted out of that dress. So she reached for her side and unzipped it, letting it fall to the ground, her lacy bra following. Miranda braced her hands behind her and hoisted herself up on the counter for a moment, liking the way the tile was cool against her heated skin. Wasn't heels, but it worked as she reached for him again, opening her legs as she pulled him against her. The shower could wait a moment.
Quick and efficiently, Jacob stripped away every scrap of clothing until he was entirely bare, before heading to the shower to flip on the water to what looked like a decent temperature, but did not get in himself. He turned, catching sight of the rather fantastic sight of Miranda as equally nude, every inch of her golden skin on display as he moved back to her. His mouth fell on hers heavily, crushing it beneath his own, already feeling the stirrings of renewed desire. Across her skin, from the back of her calves upward, his hands slid upwards. Along the outside of her thighs, sketching out the curves of her ass, the flare of her hips, the indent of her waist, and the rises of her full breasts between them.
There is a moan for his actions as she locked her legs around him, trapping him for the moment against her body. Her fingers traced over his skin, feeling the sheen from their earlier activities. Somehow she doubted the shower would actually get them cleaner; there might not be much actual cleaning involved. Breaking the kiss, she moved to kiss down his neck, teeth scraping against his neck. Fair was fair after all and she had enjoyed this before.
Delicate fingers moved over his skin, over the more than occasional faded scar that marred the surface of his body, nearly all of them old and faded away. With her legs locked around him as they were, the hardening length of his growing erection pressed alongside one of her inner thighs, as he groaned low in his throat at her kissing and scraping at the left side of his neck. Thankfully his left. The right side of his neck carried a healing bite wound from the vampire bitch who had started this whole frustrating search, the one that had brought him to seeking something of a calm in her arms and body.
She didn't bite down, hard, but she nipped over his shoulder, repaying the kindness he'd showed her in the elevator before, the steam from the shower slowly starting to curl around their skin. Her hips arched towards him as she slowed a little, lips moving back up his neck, tugging on his earlobe, fingers of one hand trailing down his back. She shifted, dragging her nails up his skin as she moved away, tossing her curls, managing to get most of them over one shoulder, lips moving to the other side of his neck. It didn't take her long to find that bite and she knew from her many years this was not a consenting bite. Miranda kissed it lightly, wondering what the hell a man who had more locks than anyone she knew had done to get bit like that.
Her lips trailed over his throat, tongue flicking out over his Adam's apple. She wasn't going to ask about the bite; it wasn't their way. But she wasn't going to make it worse either. If anything, she would do her best to keep him occupied, focused on her. He had talented hands and she would rather they were focused on making her come undone. Or at least supporting her while she worked him over.
Jacob, feeling her teeth, steeled himself not to flinch away from the repayment, but he groaned nonetheless. The mirror behind her was rapidly fogging up in the steam from the shower, and the view was partly obscured, be he could still watch the play of the back of her body as she moved. When she moved to his right side, he stiffened, and not in a pleasant way, but eased back when she kissed the bite mark and moved on. He'd set the packet from his hand onto the counter, so that his hands were free to stroke and roam, as her mouth moved over his skin.
That groan made her grin against his skin, flash of teeth against his collarbone. She let out a noise of appreciation when his hands moved over her back. Miranda knew how this was affecting him and she wrapped her hand around him, stroking him as she kissed her way back up his neck to his ear. "Getting kind of hot in here," she purred with a wicked grin. It took her a moment to realize he was looking in the mirror behind her. Seemed someone had a fetish and she was starting to understand why people did. Leaning back, she shook out her hair again, arching her back as she stroked him, her body completely on display for him.
Automatically, his body tightened a notch more, with soft and nimble fingers curled around him, letting out a breath. The stroking, rougher fingers of his hands over her bare and heated body, they now grasped and dragged. A huff of air was the closest he came to a laugh at her comment, pressing further into her hand and each stroke. The mirror had been the most convenient way to watch her body, when she had been so close against him, although looking down to see the top curves of her lush breasts had hardly been a hardship. As she leant back, it was obvious that she was entirely secure in her own attraction and sexuality, heightening his own arousal with the clear view of her front. Dark green eyes followed a droplet of sweat from the hollow of her throat, across her upper chest, down between her breasts as they rose and fell with each of her breaths, to disappear into the hollow of her navel set in the flatness of her belly.
Biting the corner of her lip, Miranda watched him in the mirror, seeing how appreciatively he was looking at her body. That was a woman's power and she had moments were she wanted to be as power hungry as Caesar or Cleopatra. And, in this position, she could enjoy the way his eyes dragged over her flesh as well as the tightly toned muscles of his own body. They were both starting to sweat and she watched the droplets trail over his skin, down his neck, getting marred in the claw mark scars across his chest that just heightened the strength of the man she currently had at her mercy. Leaning in, she trailed the tip of her tongue over his skin, mimicking the path of the sweat, just in the opposite direction. She breathed against his ear, tugging gently in time with her strokes. "Think the water might be getting cold," she whispered, pulling back again to watch his face as she added a twist to the end of each stroke.
The hand wrapped around him felt good, nearly too good, blood pulsing beneath her touch, and Jacob was standing stock still in order to control the urge to thrust into her grip. He swallowed as her tongue drew a path against his skin, especially as her mouth was against the underside of his throat, his breathing tightly controlled. Across her skin, skimming across the golden tinged surface of her, his hand moved up her back and then down her side to one hip. In the opposite direction, his other hand moved up between them, palming one breast
and squeezing the firm globe of it. "Don't want to run out of hot water," abruptly his hand was gone from her chest, and after he peeling her fingers away from their hold on his erection, and grabbed the packet off the counter, he gripped along her upper thighs and lifted her, stepping backward.
Holding onto her securely, and leaving it to her to wrap her arms around his neck, he covered the short distance to the shower and stepped them both underneath the water's warm spray. Jacob pushed her back against the wall, her legs still wrapped around him.
She could feel the effect she was having on him, pleased that she still could get a man to react like that. After nearly five hundred years, she would hope that she learned something to keep a man interested. His hands teased their way over her skin, sending it into goosebumps. That was something she hadn't felt in a long time. And it would have been a little amusing to her how his hands sought to to distract her from her current actions if it hadn't worked. The way his hand cupped her breast, making her moan had her falter a little in her strokes. He moved their hands and suddenly they were moving and her back was against cool tile, steam and hot water caressing her skin as she leaned in for another kiss.
Miranda arched her hips against his body, already wet and having nothing to do with the shower around them. One hand slipped around his shoulders, the other into his now wet hair.
With part of her weight, although it was not considerable in the least, taken by the wall as his body pressed against hers, Jacob was able to bring the condom packet to his mouth to tear the little envelope just before she was kissing him again. With the water beating down on their skin, every bare inch now slick with the moisture, it still could not be confused with the hotter slickness so near to him. The protection was quickly rolled into place, and as soon as it was, he thrust upwards into her, deep and sure. Immediately he groaned into her mouth at the sudden sensation of being surrounded by her again, even if he had been expecting it, both hands now on her buttocks and holding her in place.
She gasped as he filled her again. He held her against him, not moving and she moaned, clenching around him. Miranda felt as though she would burst if he didn't move, if she didn't feel the slick slide of him into her heat, hitting that place that no one else had touched in nearly a decade. That was certainly no fun, but it was hard to think about the past or even the future when she had the hot, broad body of Jacob pressed against hers. Her body gripped him in every way she could, arms and legs tightening around him, her heat holding him within her.
Holding still longer than he really needed to, the start of his withdraw from the place that was both warmer and wetter than the shower around them, that felt good enough to send minute little shocks through each of her nerves. Half with anticipation and half with the here and now. Easing out of her inch by inch, he only stopped when he was nearly out of her completely, and then he pushed all the way back into her in one quick movement. It was the rhythm he settled into, nearly painfully slow out, and an immediate rise up to fill her again.
Releasing his lips, she let her head fall back against the wall of the shower as she felt his movement, how every cell in her body seemed to sing out for this. Her fingers dug into his skin again, needing to hold on to something as the heat of the shower and of their current activities was settling into her brain. Miranda gasped again, shifting so she could lean in to tug at his ear again. "Think you're trying to kill me," she breathed. If this was the way he planned on doing it, she certainly wasn't going to object. Groaning, she let her head drop to his shoulder as he slowly drove her insane.
If he had known what she was, he might have agreed, but certainly not in a way that had him moving smoothly between her thighs while she gasped and breathed in his ear. With his hands gripping her ass, his pelvis rolling up quickly and then slow roll down. With a turn of his head, his mouth was even with her ear now, "Not yet." Hands directed her hips to tilt more towards him, getting that much deeper, and a newer angle, his rhythm steady and unhalting.
She let out a half whimper as he shifted the angle, reaching that point, changing the friction between their bodies. The snap of his hips, bringing him deeper into her heat had her gasping, fingers digging into his skin, dragging up his back. Miranda kept her head on his shoulder, panting, gasping, nipping, breathing. The heat, the passion, that deep curl in the pit of her stomach, everything was starting to flow through her again in waves, making her toes curl. She wasn't ready, not yet.
Underneath his fingers, and through every inch where their bodies touched, he could feel increasing tension in her curvaceous body. Not only did he slow his actions, he actually stopped entirely, still buried within her. Jacob ground himself against her, but made no more moves with his lower body after the a moment or two, one hand moving up along her side, down her spine and pressed his fingers in slightly at her lower back. When the level of his own pleasure had backed of considerably, he began moving within her again, slowly building to a new rhythm. Now each upthrust was achingly slow, and each slide out of her was quicker.
When he stopped moving, she was sure he was trying to kill her. She was overwhelmed by him. Maybe that was his intention. The noise she let out was a low whine, there was no denying that. He was torturing her and it was the sweetest, most blissful kind of torture there was. He was completely filling her, the feeling of him buried inside her, stretching her. When he started to move again, it was deliciously slow and she was gasping again, groaning, sighing. This rhythm felt good and she showed her appreciation by scraping her teeth against his neck again, hoping to spur him on.
It wasn't the same need for momentary control as before, but it was a twist on the same concept. While the shower's stream of water flowed down their combined bodies, highlighting each and every ridge of muscle and curve of soft flesh, as he pressed his torso closer against hers, hitching her body up slightly higher on the wall for increased leverage. While he groaned in the back of his throat at her teeth against his skin, with her nails still raking lightly over his back, Jacob didn't pick up his speed, didn't change his rhythm. Instead each and every thrust into the tight heat of her was steady, if anything, he began drawing out his pace.
It seemed nothing was going to change his mind regarding their pace and she resigned herself to let him control this, control her. As he drew this out, she closed her eyes, letting this wash over her the way the steam and the water caressed her flesh. With another nip to his shoulder, Miranda dragged her lips up the wet flesh of his neck, to his lips, kissing him back, mouth open to his. There wasn't much else she could do other than let him possess her.
When her mouth met his, opened for him, with a low groan he poured himself into the kiss, his lower body increased in tempo as his tongue thrust past plush lips to tangle with hers. As clear as a signal to pick up his pace, to begin driving into her to push them both forward towards that precipice ahead. Water droplets traced the cords of his neck, the hard plane of his collar bone, the wideness of his shoulders and the generally square build of his body. Each ebb and flow into her welcoming depths increased in intensity, until one hand slid up her water slick body to aid the build of her pleasure, grinding again against her.
Moaning into his mouth, feeling him speed up, her hands moved over his back and shoulders, fingers sliding over wet skin, feeling bits of scars under her fingertips as she moved down his front. She had to keep touching him. His own fingers moved over her body, touching the spots he was learning, the ones that would make her tremble and shake. "God," she breathed against his mouth, pausing long enough to say that word before attacking his mouth again.
Both of their mouths were sure to be bruised after this, a faint thought that was dismissed immediately as inconsequential, as they kissed with less style than pure need. Every movement, from the near battle that each kiss was to the way their lower bodies met with each increasingly hard thrust, it was all substance and not flash. It was dark, and it was carnal, with no room for anything but sheer lust and the demand for their bodies to be momentarily sated on it. The tips of his fingers between them brushed through her curls to play the counterpoint of a soft touch among all the demanding and more than slightly dominating slide of skin on skin that could not be quite labeled as caresses.
This man had incredible stamina and Miranda was glad that not only had she already killed the night, but she had also not killed him. This thought, of course was gone with the next stroke that brought him deep inside her. She had no romantic delusions about this night, about what they were doing, despite where they were doing it. It was a convenient location to satisfy their urges, their needs, again and again. Each meeting of their hips, each wet slide of skin on skin, each stroke into her heat, was slowly bringing her to that point again, the moment where everything crashed hard around her. That moment that was being spurred on by his fingers searching out that tiny little bundle of nerves that lay beneath her curls.
Aspects of who he was as a hunter, his style in the way he chose to move, was trained to think, the way he let instincts guide him to a great degree, those traits echoed in how he thought and acted here. With her legs wrapped tightly around his waist, beneath the steamy spray of water of the shower that slicked down his hair and made him altogether appear sleeker than normal. He pushed into her welcoming body again, and again, pressingly deeply inside her until, for a moment, it was almost possible to forget where one of them ended and the other began. The pad of one finger ran across the ultra-sensitive pearl of flesh that quivered under his touch, seeking the end for her as his chased its way up from the base of his spine and shredded his control.
Each press of him into her body had her gasping, sighing, fingers tightening against him. With her head thrown back, pressing against the tile behind her, she shattered against him, body spasming as she cried out, not really resembling any words. The heat of the shower, of him, of her orgasm overwhelming her as she collapsed against him, forehead resting against his shoulder. Miranda had no words this time as she fought to regain her composure.
Jacob could feel the oncoming rush of heat and pressure curling around his spine and shooting through the nerves of his body with each slide into her welcoming, slick heat. His thrusts turning as ragged and rough as his breathing just then, as his control slipped away, and he momentarily lost himself in the white hot burst of his orgasm. The only sound that he made with the last few shallow thrusts into her, was a harsh groan, low and primal, as he let himself be carried away by the pleasure that overwhelmed him. Somewhere along the way he had withdrawn his hand from between them, and as he returned to himself, was simply focused on bracing them both against the wall.
Somewhere in that small, steam filled space, she regained some semblance of thinking and she let out a deep noise of contentment, the sound of a perfectly satisfied woman. Who wouldn't have been at that point? "Damn," she purred softly, leaning away from him to stretch her back a little against the tile. Miranda smiled and rested her hands lightly on his shoulders. First the kill and then extremely good sex. This night had turned out better than she had planned. Maybe there was something to be said for kill then sex rather than the other way around. Right now, she definitely needed a rest.
His breath coming heavily, as if he'd just run a mile through the forest after a dangerous supernatural, and his recent orgasm for the second time within the hour had him moderately peaceful in mood. Every nerve in his body was eased and flooded with chemicals that dulled any harshness to the world in their immediate surroundings. They both knew this was simply physical, although there was hardly anything 'simple' about the rush of their climax with the shower's spray pouring over them, leaving no room for pointless wonderings of anything beyond the immediate night. The now immediate desire for sleep. As if to punctuate his thoughts, Jacob slipped from her when he pulled back at least that much, after watching the play of water streaming over her breasts as she stretched through hooded eyes.
A very satisfied smile curled on her lips as she parted from him and managed to establish her own connection with the ground below her feet. Or, well, the wet tile of the shower. He seemed to enjoy her stretch, though it had been lazy and not intended for his enjoyment. Her muscles were stretched, sore, used and she was content as a new born kitten. Miranda ran her hands down his arms. "Don't know about you, but I'm going to need a break before the next round," she said, smiling up at him. The water was still miraculously warm and she was glad they were in a hotel where it would have to be or there would be complaints. Her own water heater wasn't that good.
Jacob flicked off the water control, cutting off the warm spray from above, giving Miranda a nod. "Yeah," he seriously needed some downtime and sleep before he did anything else. Either in a sexual way, or completely non-sexual. Although, given who he was with, and the unspoken boundaries of their 'relationship,' it was all sexual and nothing else. The man stepped away from her, turning and heading out of the shower for the towels, making quick work of drying his own body. His hair was short enough that not only would it dry almost immediately, but it didn't need to be more than smoothed down with one hand.
She wasn't surprised by the fact that he didn't hand her a towel or dry her off. There was nothing romantic about their interactions and she had no notion of it ever being like that. Miranda grabbed herself a towel and focused on her body first, making sure she was dry before she focused on her hair. If she had planned this, she would have brought a little mousse or something to tame her curls. She would worry about it in the morning. Once she was satisfied with how no longer damp she was, she moved out of the bathroom, gathering her things and leaving everything on the dresser before pulling back the sheets and slipping between them, enjoying the cool feeling against her skin.
Padding naked across the distance from the bathroom to the bedroom, after dropping the towel of into a corner of the tiled room, his back scored with lines where Miranda's nails dug in and sliced shallowly into his skin, Jacob had slid into bed before her. Stretching out slightly, Jacob made one last visual inspection of the room before he shifted in a more...sleep oriented mood. He would actually remain awake until she fell asleep before him, there was no other option for him, as he rarely, if ever, actually slept in the same bed as a woman.
Miranda fluffed her pillow a little and positioned it so she was curled around it a little while it stay remained under her head. There was no illusions of cuddling, doubting he was the type. Laying on her side, she smiled to herself and closed her eyes. "Night," she offered before drifting off to sleep, that content smile of a thoroughly satisfied woman on her face. That had definitely been a better night than she'd planned on.
No, he wasn't the type to cuddle as he fell asleep. Over all, Jacob simply hadn't been raised to be very physically affectionate in little ways, even if this had been about affection, rather than attraction, lust and mutual need. He didn't look over at her where she lay until she fell asleep, not really returning the farewell into unconsciousness aloud. Instead he turned his gaze back to the ceiling before falling asleep, not even truly relaxing in that state. Even as his eyes closed and sleep overtook him, much of his guard remained permanently up, because he knew no other way.