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fembuckAuthor: Janine
Fandom: The Hollows
Pairing: Rachel/Ivy
Rating: R
Disclaimer: I don’t own them.
Summary: Rachel and Ivy have a girl’s night out, but things don't exactly go according to plan.
Part I - I Wish I May, I Wish I Might
Part II - I Wish I May, I Wish I Might
Two Months Later
“They didn’t,” I declared, though the slightly higher tilt to my voice at the end made it sound more like a question.
Ivy and I were lying wrapped up in a large blanket on our bench on the patio. It was chilly out and I was surprised when Ivy suggested that we have dinner out outside on the patio. I was tempted to refuse at first. I’d been freezing my ass off all day doing errands and some recon work, and I didn’t particularly feel like freezing my ass off again because Ivy thought something might be neat. But, I had been trying to be more careful about thinking before I spoke and so, before I automatically said no, I took a moment think about Ivy’s request.
It had been a while since we’d had time alone together. The church was running amok with pixies, the cold snap forcing Jenks and his family back inside and into my desk. We were safe from prying eyes behind our bedroom doors, but pixies had excellent hearing and we hadn’t been able to really touch each other in days. I loved Ivy more than I loved pain amulets, but there was no way I was going to risk Jenks overhearing me begging her to do something filthy to me, and having him mock me for it for the rest of the week. He’d caught us once, Ivy pinning me to the counter as I slipped my fingers underneath the back of her jeans to claw at her ass, and he’d called me “Tiger” and made a tiny little claw and growling sounds every time he saw me for six days straight.
Focusing on Ivy once again, I saw that she seemed a little anxious and tense, and I was sure that the lack of privacy was getting to her too. Suddenly, going outside for a while didn’t seem that bad, and I agreed with a smile. It was chilly, but I knew that Ivy would keep me warm.
“They did,” Ivy confirmed, and I could hear the smirk in her voice. Schadenfreude was Ivy’s middle name when it came to dumb criminals. Nothing delighted her more than seeing pieces of scum utterly and completely humiliate themselves, besides of` course hitting them really, really hard on the head afterwards. “Idiots,” she declared derisively.
“Who does that?” I asked, my face turning up in disgust.
“Idiots,” Ivy repeated and I grinned.
“Did you hurt them?” I asked, a little shiver going through my body. I didn’t want to be turned on by the idea of Ivy inflicting pain on people, even if they were lowlife scum, but I was. Swathed in black leather, her eyes an almost unfathomable black, Ivy was lethality and grace come together in the most perfect of forms. She was a death you wanted to embrace. She was the abyss that made you yearn to fling yourself to its dark, swaying depths. Ivy was the knife point that called to your heart like a Siren’s song. She was six feet of sex, sin, more sex and if you were very, very lucky still more sin, and she got me hot.
I felt Ivy shrug behind me. “I didn’t do any permanent damage,” was her wicked response.
“Should it worry me that it turns me on when you say things like that?” I asked dreamily, enjoying the way her arms tightened around me, and she buried her face in my hair.
“Probably,” she murmured softly, the exhalation more a purr than a word. “But I don’t mind,” she continued as I shifted into a more comfortable position against her. Between Ivy’s body heat, the blanket and the fire going nearby I was pleasantly warm, cozy even and I had the urge to burrow in against her like a spoiled tabby cat. “I like you hot and bothered.”
We’d dug out a fire pit earlier in the year when it was warm out, and after I agreed to dinner outside, Ivy had headed out the back door to start up the fire and set things up so that we’d be comfortable once we got out there. Since becoming lovers, one of my favorite pastimes had become Ivy Watching. I loved just leaning against something, and watching her move. That sleek, predatory gracefulness that had once scared me shitless now filled me with warmth and a possessive sort of pride. She was mine; all of that grace, and beauty and perfection … mine. I would have felt bad about my cave-witch thoughts, but I knew that if Ivy ever found out how possessively I was beginning to think of her, that she would love it. Nothing said ‘love’ to vamps like chopping off people’s heads and snarling, “Get away from her! She’s mine!” In the language of vampire love Ivy was a master poet, she was Shakespeare and her ability to make grown men who looked at me a little too long wet themselves in fear was her Sonnet 18.
“Mostly bothered lately,” I complained, slipping my fingers under her shirt beneath the blanket, so that my palm was splayed against her smooth, taut stomach. Her abdominal muscles twitched a little at the touch of my chilled fingers, and I heard Ivy breath in deeply before she exhaled, her eyes fluttering closed momentarily as she did. “Have you heard anything on the news about this cold spell breaking?” I asked my tone more than a little whiney as I slipped my hand a little further under her shirt. The heat from her body was literally making my fingers itch, and I wanted to continue slipping my hand up her torso until I was cupping her breast, and then I wanted to push her shirt up as well so that all I had to do was lean forward and press my lips against …
“Rachel,” Ivy moaned softly, shifting on the bench trying to escaping my wandering fingers.
I sighed and slipped by fingers back down and under her shirt until they were resting respectably against her jean covered hip. I liked teasing Ivy, and Ivy liked being teased, but we needed to be able to finish what we started. Delaying pleasure was the tops, but denying it completely was dangerous. Ivy needed some kind of release when I got her worked up, and if she didn’t get it things could get hairy very quickly. A few weeks before we’d been fooling around on the couch, the teasing touches becoming more and more serious when the phone rang. Ivy had told me to let it go to the machine, and since my hand had been between her legs, my fingers rubbing roughly at the damp patch on her skimpy underwear I was more than inclined to agree with her. However, when the answering machine picked up and my mother’s voice began to leave a long rambling message, it’d killed the mood a little for me and with an apologetic look at Ivy I’d gotten up to get it. My mother, being my mother, had proceeded to talk to me at length and by the time I made it back to Ivy she had been a giant ball of tension, and had shaken her head at me when I started to move closer to her. It’d taken a two hour workout, an hour long ride on her bike, a cold shower, and an hour fiddling with her maps before she’d calmed down enough for me to be in the same room with her again. I’d been very careful not to start something I couldn’t finish after that.
“Sorry,” I murmured a bit sheepishly, kissing a small exposed part of her collarbone. “It’s just … we’re finally alone,” I breathed out longingly, my hand twitching restlessly where it lay against her hip. “It’s hard to keep my hands off you.”
Ivy smiled, her eyes twinkling and I realized that she was amused by more than my teenage hormones.
“What?” I inquired darkly.
“I think you just like the idea of doing it outside,” Ivy murmured. “In the open, where anyone could walk in on us,” she continued smirking, and I knew that this was about my apparent need for danger and risk to be involved in every part of day from grocery shopping to making love.
“The pixies aren’t going to come out here, the fairies are still in
“It’s a good thing that Ceri doesn’t stop by the garden unannounced at strange times, or that Kisten doesn’t sometimes stop back here for a smoke before he comes in,” Ivy responded, in a knowing sort of voice. “But luckily they both clomp around like pretty blonde elephants so we would hear them coming long before they could see us doing anything only …” she trailed off, and I turned my head to glare at her and then smacked her in the stomach. I was not trying to get her to do me out there so that someone would walk in on us.
Ivy released an exaggerated sound of pain after I swatted her, and despite myself I smiled.
“Okay, okay. You’re just a horny little witch,” Ivy amended.
“That’s because my big bad vampire, isn’t being bad enough,” I whispered seductively, sliding myself against the length of her wantonly.
Ivy moaned piteously, and titled her head back, staring up at the stars above us. I thought she was just being dramatic, and used the opportunity to plant series of kisses along her neck, and even paused for a few seconds at her pulse point to chew at it lightly, knowing that it drove her absolutely crazy. I couldn’t, and didn’t really want to draw blood, but Ivy loved it when I bit, so I tried to do it as much as possible. She tensed under me however, and her hand moved to my hip gently urging me back, and reluctantly I pulled away from her.
“Sorry,” I said again, making a promise to myself to be good. I knew she wanted to touch me as much as I wanted to touch her, and if she was holding back it wasn’t because she was afraid that Ceri or Kisten would sneak up on us, it was because she didn’t think that she could control herself. It hadn’t happened often, but on a few occasions her hunger had stopped us from being able to be together, and I knew better than to push her any farther than I already had.
“No,” Ivy breathed out, her voice a little more strained than usual, but not in a dangerous territory. “Don’t be. It’s my fault. I’m just …” she stopped speaking, and sighed deeply, the force of it lifting me up and down with the movement of her chest. “I’m not trying to push you,” Ivy began, “If your answers no, then it’s no and that’s fine,” she went on hastily, sounding as if she was trying to get the words out before she lost her courage to say them. “I was just wondering if you had given anymore thought to entering into a blood balance?”
Her voice was little more than a whisper, and if her lips hadn’t been resting right by my ear, I never would have heard her.
I sucked in a deep breath. This was why she wanted to have dinner outside. She hadn’t wanted the privacy so that we could play some under the blanket ‘getting to know you’ games, she’d wanted to be alone so that we could talk.
“Forget about it,” Ivy said quickly hearing my intake of breath. “I was just curious. It’s not important. Forget it,” she repeated quickly, her thumb brushing against the back of my hand as if she was trying to sooth whatever panic or fear she thought that she had called up in me with her question.
“I have,” I said ignoring what she had just said, knowing that she didn’t really mean it. She wasn’t just curious, it was important. She hadn’t just proposed dinner out here on a whim. Ivy was a planner, and a conversation like this wasn’t something she would have just brought up without having thought about it, a lot. She was just scared of frightening me by bringing up blood, and I couldn’t blame her for being skittish. Even after giving into my physical desire for her, the two times she had asked me about sharing blood I had declined, and on top of all of the times I had turned her down before we got together, I knew that I had to have given her a complex. “I’ve been thinking about it,” I continued softly, grasping her fingers with my own. “I think I’d like to try.”
Ivy was absolutely still behind me, her chest not even rising and falling in breath.
“Pardon?” she asked, her speech crisp and impeccable, the control with which she was speaking giving away her internal confusion more than sputtering and falling over her words could have. She’d already prepared herself to be rejected again, and her surprise at my acquiescence made me feel like a huge asshole.
I shifted in her arms until I could see her face, and then reached out with my hand to stroke her cheek softly. “I said I want to find a blood balance with you,” I told her firmly, my eyes on her as I spoke so that she could see how serious I was. “I know how hard it’s been for you,” I continued, and Ivy turned her head away from me, her features contorting for a moment as if she was in pain before her face smoothed out again, her face becoming a mask that revealed nothing of what she was thinking and feeling.
“That’s not a reason to enter a blood balance,” she breathed out softly, her eyes still averted. “Don’t do this just because you think I want it … or need it,” she went on, her last three words coming out as an embarrassed hiss.
I breathed in deeply through my nose, and then out again. I will not get mad, I chanted in my head. I will not get mad.
“Look at me,” I said firmly a few seconds later. “Look at me, Ivy,” I repeated, moving my fingers to her chin to tilt her head towards me when she continued to look away. “Everybody may think I’m your whore, but I’m not,” I said, my finger pressing against her lips to silence her when her eyes widened and her lips parted to respond. “I’m not offering myself up to you out of some sycophantic need to please you.” I removed my finger from her lips, certain that she would allow me to finish speaking. “I do want to please you,” I told her gently. “I love you. I want you to be happy, and content and satisfied. I want those things for you, as much as you want them for me,” I told her stroking her cheek again, needing to touch her, to be connected to her as I spoke. “But it’s not about you, it’s about us. I want this for us. I want to love you completely. I want to know all of you. I want us to be able to share this, and I trust you not to bind me. I’ve been unfair to you, to us both, and I want to change that.”
“Your scar,” Ivy said, her voice trembling a little.
“It’s tingling, but it’s manageable,” I said. “It’s not my scar talking; your pheromones aren’t influencing me. My head is clear, Ivy. I know what I’m saying. And it’s not a snap decision. I’ve been thinking about this. I’ve,” I sighed, feeling like a shabby low life bum, “I’ve wanted to bring it up, but …” I sighed again. “You’ve always been the braver of the two of us,” I whispered, leaning down to lightly press my lips against hers.
“That’s not true,” Ivy breathed out, following my lips with her own and kissing me softly. “Most people would have run the first night we moved in together. You stayed. Through it all, you stayed,” she continued, long eyelashes fluttering to cover her beautiful brown eyes as she blinked rapidly. “Loving me is an act of courage,” she whispered forcing her eyes open. “You’re the bravest person I know, Rachel. You make me strong.”
I squeezed my eyes shut against the onslaught of tears her words and tone brought up in me. I sometimes didn’t understand the Rachel Morgan that Ivy spoke of, I didn’t see the woman she described when I looked in the mirror in the morning, but I knew that I saw a lot in her that she didn’t see in herself, and I thought that maybe that was why we were so good together. We saw the pure, good, beautiful parts of each other that the world had tried to beat out of us over the course of our lives, and we magnified them, we lit them up for each other, so that in each others eyes we were able to see ourselves as we truly were.
“You’re going to make me cry,” I choked out, blinking against my tears and losing the battle.
“Then cry,” Ivy said softly. “I’ve got you.”
I squeezed my eyes shut, tears streaming from them as I did and I leaned down and buried my face in her neck, my tears wetting her neck and the collar of her shirt. I didn’t like crying, and I didn’t want to, despite Ivy’s encouragement. People said it was cleansing, but it always left me feeling vulnerable and a little dirty. But when the urge to cry hit, the tears came no matter how hard I fought, and when they stopped this time, I was embarrassed but I also felt about ten times better than I had before the tears came. I knew that it was lying in Ivy’s arms that made the difference, and I hugged her to me tightly. Ivy made everything safe … even my own feelings.
“I don’t deserve you,” I murmured.
“No, you deserve better,” Ivy whispered, her lips ghosting against the top of my head as she spoke. I started in her arms, but she made a soothing sound in her throat, and I calmed down knowing that she wasn’t finished talking yet. “But now that I’ve got you, I’m not letting go.”
I smiled against Ivy’s neck, and then kissed the soft skin there before curling myself around her even more.
“Oh god,” I moaned, chuckling a little against her throat.
“What?” Ivy asked, her tone curious but not concerned. Despite the seriousness of the conversation we had been having, my tone had been light and she knew that I wasn’t upset despite my words.
“Can you imagine how much Jenks would tease us, if he’d heard that conversation?” I asked, laughing, a touch of self-consciousness to my voice. Neither Ivy nor I were ‘let’s sit and talk about our feelings’ kind of girls. We were both too scared of our emotions to want to discuss them at length, especially with each other since we were usually the cause of each others insanity. When we were forced to have heart-to-hearts however, the most unbelievably cheesy things would come out of my mouth. Ivy managed to make similarly cheesy things sound wonderfully dreamy, but I sounded like an overwrought Wandmark card, and usually ended up hiding my face against Ivy until the embarrassment caused by my own sappiness ran its course.
Ivy groaned, but when I peeked up at her I saw that her lips were curved up in a wry smile.
“I really do want to do this,” I said, sobering a little as I propped myself up so that I could see Ivy’s face clearly again.
Ivy nodded, and then closed her eyes and breathed in deeply. “When the pixies are gone?” Ivy asked, opening her eyes again.
“When the pixies are gone,” I confirmed with a smile, knowing that she wanted absolute privacy. It would be our first time, and neither of us wanted to wonder if there were pixies hovering outside of the door, or to be interrupted by crashing sounds or the smell of something burning ‘accidentally’.
“It’s amazing, Rachel,” Ivy said a little breathlessly. “It really is. It’s beautiful.”
“You’ll show me,” I replied confidently. Being bitten by Ivy was an unknown, and as such it scared me a little. But the possible rewards more than outweighed my fear, and I knew without a doubt that this was the right decision. That this was something we needed to do.
“Yes,” Ivy said, leaning up to reach my lips, pressing hers against them. “I love you,” she whispered reverently.
“I love you too,” I responded sincerely, kissing her back soundly.
“Rachel?” she asked when we were forced to pull apart.
“Mm,” I murmured, still dazed by the taste of Ivy’s lips.
“Do you ah, still want to?” she asked, her tongue slipping past her lips to lick at them in the most delicious way. I knew that she was talking about my earlier friskiness and I smiled.
“Yes,” I said, not caring that my response was a little to eager. “God, yes,” I groaned ecstatic to discover that it had been nerves about talking to me, and not hunger that had made her stop me from touching her before. I really was about one night away from taking things into my own hands in the shower.
“Thank you, Jesus,” Ivy murmured, her hands beginning to run up my thighs. I didn’t exactly think that was giving credit where credit was due since the naughty outdoor touching had been my idea, but as Ivy’s hands continued to run over me, I decided that I didn’t really care.
---
I’d always thought that Ivy had a flare for the dramatic, and the night that she bit me for the first time I knew that she did. Ivy’s sheets were black silk and they felt sinfully delicious against my skin. Lying on them had always made me feel luxurious and pampered, and as I stretched out on them waiting for Ivy to join me, I felt like a queen.
The cold snap had lasted for two days after our conversation on the patio, and by the time Jenks and his brood made their way back to their stump in the garden, Ivy and I were half mad with anticipation. When the last of the shrieking children was out the door, I was half tempted to jump onto the counter and bare my neck to her. Come and get it, big girl! But Ivy had been planning, and as much as I wanted her to bite me, I didn’t really want it to be in the kitchen with a hanging pot hitting the back of my head.
“Hey,” Ivy said softly, walking into the bedroom. She had a glass of orange juice in one hand, and a small plate with some of her Brimstone cookies in the other one, her black silk robe draped loosely over a thin, black nightie. I wasn’t particularly pleased to see her Brimstone cookies, but I knew better than to complain. The bane of my existence, Trent Kalamack, was responsible for the distribution of Brimstone in Cincy, and I didn’t want to have anything to do with lining his pockets. But, if Ivy was to drink from me regularly, I would need her Brimstone laced ‘cookies’ to stay strong and healthy. I didn’t like it, but I cared for Ivy more than I hated
“Hey,” I breathed out, knowing that she would easily hear me, even across the room.
“Doors, windows and vents are secure,” Ivy told me with a smirk, gracefully walking over to her dresser where she rested the plate of Brimstone cookies. “The church is, for the night, a pixie free zone.”
I suspected that the pixie children could get in if they really wanted to. Pixies were very clever and very industrious. In fact, if they were so inclined Pixies could probably rule the world, it was just lucky for Inlanders and humans that they were more concerned with gardens than with world domination.
I wasn’t really worried about the children trying to bust in though. It was late, and most of them would be asleep, and the older ones that were still awake were watched closely by Jenks in the night. I hadn’t said anything to Jenks about what was going to happen tonight, but he seemed to know how important today was to both Ivy and I, and I suspected that he’d had one of his strange heart-to-hearts with Ivy.
“Pixie free zone,” I sighed dreamily. “Those might be the three sweetest words in the English language.”
Ivy smirked, and made her way over to the bed. “Really? I thought the three sweetest words in the English language were ‘Ivy, right there’,” she said, moaning the words as she smirked at me. “Or maybe, ‘Oh, god yes!’, or ‘Jesus, fuck, harder,’” she continued huskily, chewing on her bottom lip coquettishly.
“Keep that up, and you won’t be hearing any of those for a while,” I muttered glaring at her. Ivy simply smiled beatifically at that, knowing that there was no way I would be able to keep my hormones under control long enough to actually punish her by withholding sex. When it came to control Ivy knew more about it than I was ever likely to, and she could wait me out without breaking a sweat.
“You’re confusing me, Rachel,” Ivy murmured, snaking her arm around my waist and drawing me into her body. “It sounds like you want me to behave, but I thought I was supposed to be bad tonight,” she continued, her voice like soft spun gray silk as her lips brushed against the pale skin of my shoulder. “It’s like the saying goes,” Ivy continued as a smooth, toned thigh slid over my own. “When I’m bad I’m better.”
I moaned softly, the sound turning into a satisfied groan when Ivy’s thigh pressed against my center. I pressed myself against her, not even trying to hide my arousal. I had never been a prude in the bedroom, but I hadn’t taken pride in being a wanton hussy either … until Ivy. I now took great delight in showing her just how much she turned me on, and just how quickly she was able to do it. I suspected that part of my desire to hump her at any given opportunity came from how much she liked feeling the evidence of my desire, and knew that the other part came from being a wanton hussy – though I would still deny it if asked.
“Oh, god Ivy,” I moaned, clutching at her. I knew I sounded like a ‘character’ in a bad porno, but I didn’t care … at all. “Do it. Be bad,” I whispered, determined to be the best fake porn star that I could be.
Ivy growled and I rubbed myself against her, the primal sound of desire striking the very core of me.
“Fuck,” Ivy groaned, her breath warming my neck as she panted over it. “Fuck,” she breathed out again. Ivy very rarely swore, even when we were in bed together, and I knew that whatever she was feeling, she was feeling it intensely. “You smell so good,” she moaned leaning down to nuzzle my neck before she licked at the soft skin covering my pulse point. “I can’t … I have to … I have to,” she panted, and then before I could utter a single word of encouragement, a sharp pain registered in my neck and she was inside of me.
The pain faded almost as soon as I registered it, Ivy’s saliva soothing the burn and turning it pleasurable. I drew my hand up her back to tangle my fingers in her hair, and rocked against the thigh she still had firmly jammed between my legs as my racing heart pumped my blood forward into her eager mouth.
Ivy’s arms slipped around me and tugged fiercely, yanking me up and into her body as her fangs drove deeper inside of me. My scar flamed to life, and I cried out, my hand clutching at her desperately, scratching and squeezing as she worked my neck almost savagely in her need. I dug my nails in the flesh of her arm, and she dug her teeth into me harder.
Colours exploded in front of my eyes, even though they were open. I gasped, my lips parting as if to cry, but I had no breath inside of me to expel. I dragged my sex against her thigh, rubbing frantically, unable to think, my entire body aching, and trembling, shaking and wanting, pulsing with pleasure. Oh god, it felt good. It felt so fucking good. My head swam, and a strange thought floated through my head that I was dying. My eyes rolled, and my head tilted forward. I wasn’t breathing. I wasn’t dying, I was fainting. I needed to breathe.
With my chest rising and falling rapidly, I somehow managed to suck in a deep breath, my hands sliding to Ivy’s ass and pulling her into me as I exhaled. Ivy pulled back from me, and a sob escaped me. I didn’t want her to stop. I didn’t want her to stop! I clutched at her, and somehow found my voice. “More, please … don’t stop,” I managed to choke out. Ivy purred, and dipped her head down again, her tongue playing against my broken skin, licking at the crimson nectar that had escaped her lips previously, and then she sank her teeth into me again and I arched up into her.
God, it was exquisite. I opened my eyes, staring at her ceiling as my fingers played in her hair and clutched at her nightie. Tears slipped from my eyes, and my hips bucked, ecstasy rising in me like the tide. I felt her everywhere, all around me. This was more than blood, it was more than sex; it was more than physical. Our souls were reaching out for each other. I could feel her. I could feel her soul blanketing me. Her aura was warm and it was covering me from the crown to the toe-top. Part of me was flowing into her, and part of her was flowing into me.
“Ivy,” I moaned. My mind and my body and my soul were full of her. She was in me, and I was in her, and I could see her. I could feel her, I could feel it all. Oh god, how she needed me, how she craved me. She lived for my love, for my trust, for the security of my arms. And she loved me, desperately, without limit or reason. Oh, god how she loved me!
My hips were moving, though I didn’t know how. My mind sang as my body arched. The music swelled, rising higher and higher … building towards crescendo. Our auras twined together, moving in harmony as our bodies strained together, Ivy’s lips, my hands, her tongue, my lips, her hands, my tongue coming together to create the most beautiful music.
My hips jerked, and I crashed over the edge, twitching against Ivy as she gasped against my neck, her warmth breath lighting up my broken skin, sending me crashing into another orgasm before the first ended as she dropped her head to my bloodied neck and spasmed against me, our auras flashing white and hot as she came with me.
---
Ivy lay still against me, her chest moving up and down steadily as she lay with her head resting above my breast. Her long legs were thrown over my own, so that if someone were looking at us from above, it would look almost like I was cradling her in my arms like a baby.
It was an usual arrangement for us. Usually I lay with my head resting on Ivy’s chest, my shorter frame allowing our toes to touch, and tickle each other as we lay together. Or, as it was more often than not, Ivy would lie spooned behind me, her thin arms wrapped protectively about my waist as she held me against her.
I brushed my fingers through her hair, my heart swelling with love. I had never seen her look so vulnerable, and a fierce feeling of protectiveness flowed through me, and for a moment I thought I knew how Ivy felt about me all of the time.
“Is it always like that?” I asked softly. My mind was still a little dazed, and I knew that I was smiling goofily as I spoke.
“No,” Ivy replied simply, and she tightened her hold on me, pressing her face into me as if trying to bury inside so that she could wrap herself around my heart.
“Our auras,” I began, my mind still spinning as I thought about the feel of our souls mixing together.
“That always happens,” Ivy’s said softly. “But usually to a much lesser degree,” she continued, shifting a little, raising herself up until her head was resting on the pillow beside mine and we could see each other. “That’s what I was talking about when I told you how beautiful it could be. That it was an expression of love,” she continued, her large brown eyes shining wetly. “But … I’ve never felt anything like that before,” she breathed out, her eyes widening even more in surprise, and then delight. “The extent of the mixing, the flash of light and heat … the sympathetic orgasm,” she whispered shaking her head. “I’ve never …” she repeated before trailing off again.
If Ivy couldn’t make sense of what had happened, I wasn’t even going to try to, not at that moment with my head all fuzzy and my arms full of sated, content vampire.
“Why didn’t you tell me about the auras?” I asked curiously, my hand unconsciously moving towards her face to stroke her cheek.
“I didn’t want to scare you,” Ivy said softly, her eyes dropping away from mine. She tensed slightly against my body, and I knew that it was a fear response. She was scared that I would be angry with her from keeping it from me, but I wasn’t angry, I was just confused.
“Why would that scare me?” I asked genuinely bewildered. “It was beautiful. It was more than beautiful. It was right. It was pure. God, I don’t even … there’s not a word that can describe how wonderful it was.”
Ivy blinked and trembled, and then wrapped her arms around me and pressed her face into the nook between my neck and shoulder. “Rachel,” she breathed out against me, her warm breath caressing the broken skin less than an inch away from her mouth. “You think about things so strangely.” Her words didn’t exactly sound like a compliment, but I knew that they were. There was relief and awe in her voice and I could feel her smiling. “Most people wouldn’t see it that way. They’d think we were trying to steal their souls as well as take their blood.”
“But there’s no loss,” I protested on behalf of (living) vampires everywhere, “just a temporary joining. Nothings taken only shared.”
Ivy’s smiled widened against my neck, and she kissed me softly, before pulling back enough that she could see my face. She watched me for a second, and then leaned forward, pressing her lips against mine softly. She’d drained the glass of orange juice she’d brought into the room with her shortly after our orgasm, and I realized that like the brimstone cookies bringing the orange had been prep work. The citrus neutralized the scent and taste of blood, so that when she kissed me it reminded me of breakfast instead of blood.
“I love you, so much,” Ivy said when she pulled back, her simple words resonating with emotion.
“I love you too,” I whispered, leaning forward, needing to taste her lips again.
Her hand drifted to my waist, and when I pulled back from her she looked at me shyly.
“What?” I asked smiling a little, her bashful expression charming me.
“Are you tired?” Ivy asked watching me keenly. “I shouldn’t have taken so much,” she muttered, her expression darkening for a second as her eyes dropped to the puncture marks on my neck.
“I’m fine,” I told her, reaching out to cup her cheek. “The cookie’s working already, but I was fine before that too,” I stated firmly, holding her eyes. “You didn’t hurt me. Look at me,” I said when her eyes skittered away. “You didn’t hurt me,” I repeated again, my body relaxing a bit when she nodded faintly and gave me a small smile. “And no, I’m not tired.”
She nodded again, and looked at me curiously.
“What?” I prompted, trying not to smile too widely. I’d never seen Ivy quite like this before, not even the first night we made love, and I was deeply smitten.
“I’d like to,” she began, her eyes flickering away from mine for a second before she forced herself to meet my gaze once more. “Make love to you … properly,” she breathed out, her thumb stroking my hip softly.
“Ivy,” I said seriously, chewing on my bottom lip to stop from smiling when she looked at me very soberly. “You don’t have to ask,” I continued, releasing the soft flesh to let the smile I had been fighting touch my lips.
“But I will,” she promised, even as her hand began to move, caressing my stomach lightly sending a shiver through my body.
"I know," I breathed out, my eyes fluttering as she pressed her lips against my shoulder. "That's why you're so dreamy," I sighed, feeling like the luckiest witch in the world.
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no subject
Date: 2009-01-27 11:45 pm (UTC)lol, I think we'd all like to have Ivy for a main course!
wanton hussy
I cannot deny that I love this phrase. And also, really really is. I mean I just need Rachel and Ivy to have sex, since everyone in the books goes on and on about their respective sexual prowesses. It's like I feel like if they actually did it, they would knock the church down to the ground and take out half a city block with the explosive power of the sexin'.
no subject
Date: 2009-01-27 11:57 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-01-28 12:58 am (UTC)