Running

[rhiannon_lee]

Nighttime in Cottonwood Cove was a spectacle: a pale, pebble-strewn ground underfoot, ghostly Joshua trees twisting against a barren landscape, and a sky so black and velvety that Rhiannon longed to touch it. The moon hung low and full as she knocked at the front door of Cian’s little cottage, which had been built by a wealthy contractor as a getaway spot for his family during the construction of the Hoover Dam in the 1930s. With all that was temporary or mobile in this part of Clark County, Rhiannon appreciated the historical aspects of its framework, and how it lent a sense of time and place to an otherwise transient community.

The slayer’s dark hair was combed into a ponytail. After the sun went down, the desert temperature dropped sharply, and so she wore a loosely knit sweater over her tank top, jeans, and boots. A delicate crucifix glinted on her collarbone. She crossed her ankles and slipped her thumbs into her hip pockets as she waited for the Were to answer.

Comments

Re: Running

[rhiannon_lee]

One at a time, her hiking boots hit the floor of the cavern as Rhiannon unlaced and dropped them. She slipped the socks from her feet and climbed down to meet Cian on the blanket in the center of the room. A breeze ruffled her hair as she gathered her shirt and lifted it overhead. Then she eased the shorts from her hips. The garments landed in a soft hush of cotton. Anticipation made her breath quiver as Rhiannon raised herself to tiptoes and kissed his chin.

After a long, quiet moment, she unclasped her bra and hooked her fingers into her panties to slide them along her thighs.

At the last, when it seemed that she would touch him, Rhiannon put her back to Cian instead. There she sank to her knees on the woven fabric and turned to look at him over her shoulder.

The brunette’s fingers touched the ground behind her bare toes. ‘Here’, they seemed to say in silent invitation.

Re: Running

[cian_oneill]

His eyes hadn't left her from the moment he'd stood on the blanket, watching every movement, muscles that rippled under fair skin, accentuated by shadows heightened in the bright moonlight that streamed down into the cavern. He lowered himself to his knees, coming to rest between her calves, and reached out a hand, fingers splayed, reaching through the dark fall of her hair till tips touched the skin at the base of her neck. He slowly drew his fingers down her back, middle finger following the curve of her spine, as if he was memorizing, familiarizing himself every inch of her.

Re: Running

[rhiannon_lee]

Eyelashes laid dark and wispy on freckled skin as Rhiannon closed her eyes. She relinquished any thought of control over her surroundings, this new trust in him so complete that the slayer was able to give up sight as willingly as she gave him her body. All that mattered were his fingers, and how the long bow of her spine arched into that sweet caress, and how her head rolled left to expose the bare expanse of her neck and shoulder. The skin there, unblemished from any vampire or other demon’s mark.

Between her parted knees, the slayer’s fingers clutched at a wrinkle in the blanket, and then squeezed, and then Rhiannon flattened her palms. She began to press forward, her hands stretching the fabric away from her.

The farther she reached, the more her hips lifted up in offering to Cian’s.

Re: Running

[cian_oneill]

His fingers reached the curve of her hips, his other hand joining the first at the junction, and tracing outwards. He leaned forward as he reached around, thigh pressing against thigh, skin brushing against skin, as he sought and found the source of her scent, her arousal teasing his senses in so many ways it was pushing his self control into high gear. With slow steady strokes and presses he caressed her, then entered, a growl of pleasure filling the air as his hands gripped the curve of her hips.

Re: Running

[rhiannon_lee]

There was the physical pleasure, but more importantly, the insane mental turn-on of having Cian on his knees behind her. Rhiannon’s teeth snagged her lip and bit until it bled. She squeezed her eyes tighter closed and made a noise she’d never heard from herself before: a whimper. Legs flexed and widened the angle of her knees.

She reached back and grasped his right wrist. Nails cut deep.

Re: Running

[cian_oneill]

Again his breath hisses as the pain of her nails digging into his wrist cut into the mist and sharpened the pleasure as he moved inside her. He moved that hand back between her legs, his body pressing against her back as he plied and pressed, his free hand holding her hip, their movements and the steady rhythm, falling into time with heartbeats that seemed to synchronise.

His nostrils flared, the scent of her, the blood from her lip, his from where her nails bit deep into his wrist, drove his self-control to the edge, and he strained to hold on.

Re: Running

[rhiannon_lee]

She laced her fingers over top of his where Cian reached into the apex of her thighs to touch and tease. A chorus of gasps and cries echoed in the hollow, and she slammed backwards, wanting as much of him as possible. The climax came with little warning. Rhiannon trembled and stretched. Her bracing palm slid past the blanket and scraped on the rough rock. It wasn’t until that flash of pain that she opened her eyes.

Re: Running

[cian_oneill]

He felt the grip of her body, and growled, a gutteral sound that wrapped around the echo of her cries. His hands held her hard against him, his body vibrating with the intensity of the orgasm that shook through him. While still racked with aftershocks he reached down, wrapping his arms around her body and drew her up against him, straightening until his head tilted back and the moonlight bathed them both.