Fic: Howl (Claire/Devon, The Gates)

[fembuck]

Title: Howl
Author: Janine
Fandom: The Gates
Pairing: Claire/Devon
Rating: R
Words: 2,414
Disclaimer: I don’t own them.
Summary: Even though she wants nothing to do with Devon, Claire finds herself constantly at the blonde’s doorstep.

 

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Passion, it lies in all of us … and though unwanted, unbidden, it will stir ... open its jaws and howl. – Joss Whedon

“I hate you,” Claire whispered viciously as her lips attacked the soft skin of Devon’s throat with enough force to bruise.

“I know,” Devon panted tilting her head back to give Claire better access to her skin.

“Why do I want you so badly?” Claire exhaled raggedly, dismayed by her desire even as she drew her nose up Devon’s throat possessively and then nipped at the blonde’s jaw.

“Because you’re an animal,” Devon replied, sighing and arching into Claire’s body when the brunette growled angrily and bit her a little harder. “And I’m in heat,” the witch sighed, rolling her hips against Claire where the brunette was pinning her against the wall.

“How can you just give yourself to me like this?” Claire asked in a softly vicious voice that made Devon shiver against her. “I loathe you and you spread for me like a whore.”

“Been with many whores, Claire?” Devon asked, gasping softly a moment later when Claire cupped her roughly under her skirt and then deliberately ground the heel of her hand against Devon’s clit through her damp panties.

“Only you,” Claire husked, pressing her hand against Devon again her chest rumbling deeply once more when the blonde moaned and swiveled her hips, bucking into Claire’s palm.

“I like what you do, how you do it, and all the mean, dirty things you say throughout,” Devon panted, her eyes holding Claire’s steadily as she continued to move herself against Claire’s hand. “Why you do it doesn’t much matter to me as long as you don’t stop.”

Claire immediately pulled her hand from between Devon’s legs and Devon sighed softly before her lips curved up and she laughed lightly.

“I knew you were going to do that,” Devon murmured as she smoothed her skirt down and then lifted a hand to her head to fix her hair. “You may want to punish me enough that you can hold out tonight,” Devon continued silkily as she leaned against the wall seductively. “But you’ll be back. You always come back.”

Claire turned her head away, clenching her jaw because she couldn’t argue with the statement.

“You like the animal as much as I do,” Devon breathed out as she pushed off of the wall and moved towards Claire. “That’s why you come back; because I don’t judge or condemn you. As much as you hate it, I’m the only person in your life who accepts all of you.”

Devon came to a stop in front of Claire and reached out, bringing her hand up to cup the brunette’s exquisite face. She held Claire’s gaze for a moment, and then her lips parted as she drew her thumb over Claire’s mouth, luxuriating in the soft fullness of her lips before she used her finger to lift Claire’s upper lip up, exposing one of her sharp fangs.

Blue eyes held on the sharp point breathlessly for a moment and then Devon leaned forward and pressed her lips against Claire’s, kissing her gently for a few seconds before she allowed her tongue to graze the brunette’s fang, fondling it teasingly with the tip of her tongue.

Devon continued to toy with the fang for a few seconds and then she finally gave Claire what she wanted and pressed her tongue firmly against the sharp tip of the fang until the taste of her blood filled their mouths and Claire groaned and took hold of her hips.

When Devon’s eyes fluttered up to meet Claire’s once more, she found herself staring into eyes that were black with hunger. She blinked in an effort to contain the tears suddenly welling in her eyes. Claire was always lovely, but Devon found that she was the most beautiful when she was on the cusp of losing control. She hadn’t realized how much she had missed the danger of Claire’s touch and need in her eyes until she had the dark, hungry gaze pinning her down once more.

“I love you like this,” Devon breathed out, bringing her hand up to stroke Claire’s cheek.

“I don’t,” Claire muttered darkly, though her eyes hooded in pleasure at Devon’s touch and she leaned into the witch’s hand, nuzzling it like a kitten wanting to be scratched behind the ears.

“I know,” Devon replied sadly, “Which is why you need me all the more.”

“I don’…”

“You do,” Devon interjected harshly, cutting Claire off before she could finish denying their importance to each other. “When did the cravings come back?” Devon demanded.

Claire turned her head from the blonde trying to shut the question out.

“When did the cravings come back?” Devon asked more forcefully. “When did they return? When did that insidious hunger start gnawing at your guts again? When did …”

“When I stopped fucking you!” Claire raged turning to face Devon again, her hand moving to the blonde’s neck, pressing her hard against the wall and then holding her in place.

“You can’t deny what you are,” Devon whispered, the hand Claire had closed around her throat making it difficult for her to speak.

“And what’s that?” Claire asked roughly.

“A predator,” Devon responded as her eyelashes fluttered rapidly.

Her head was beginning to spin.

“And what are you?” Claire asked inching her face closer to Devon’s until their noses almost touched.

“A power slut,” Devon replied, managing a smile even though she felt on the verge of collapse. “I want power, I respect power, and I’m attracted to power in others,” Devon sighed, taking a deep breath as Claire’s fingers loosened marginally around her throat though the brunette didn’t release her. “Every time you threaten to kill me it dampens my panties to the point of ruination because I know … that … you … can,” the witch concluded, arching her hips seductively into Claire’s body as she spoke.

Claire moaned and bucked her hips forward, using them to press Devon’s back into the wall behind her as Claire’s fingers squeezed Devon’s face, holding it steady so that she could lean in and kiss blonde, punishing and worshipping the infuriating witch for the unwanted feelings she lit up like a bonfire inside of Claire.

Devon smelt delicious, and felt delicious, and she could still taste the blonde’s blood in her mouth. She wanted … oh, how she wanted. But fucking Devon was a double-edged sword. Giving into her desire for Devon and what she offered would satisfy her and gave her sense of calm and peace in the hours and days that followed, but it would also add fuel the fire burning within her and fan the flames until an inferno raged within, threatening to burn her from the inside out.

She knew that from experience.

The first time she had gone into Devon’s Day Spa and exited hours later with her panties in her purse and the taste of blood and Devon on her lips she had managed to go weeks before thoughts of touching Devon and tasting Devon and taking Devon began to haunt her until she couldn’t stand it any more and returned to the Day Spa. However, after a steady months long diet of Devon, Claire had found herself needing to have the witch more and more often. She went from being able to go weeks without Devon, to needing her every week, and then twice every week, and then three times a week until she had found herself going to the blonde every day.

During those months she hadn’t felt the urge to feed on anyone else, she had not been pulled over by the police with blood on her clothes and had to make up stories about nose-bleeds, and she had been relaxed and pleasant, and quite content during P.T.A meetings and Girls’ Night at the Bishi’s house.

Claire’s body had been content, but her mind had not.

As her visits with Devon became more frequent, guilt began to gnaw at Claire. Before moving to The Gates she and Dylan used to drink from human familiars often. Sexual contact sometimes accompanied these experiences, but it was usually quick and a matter of biology more than an act of lust for the person in their arms.

She had been able to keep that emotional distance with Devon at first, but Claire had never returned to the same person for blood as often as she had with Devon, and she had never fed from someone with as forceful, challenging and domineering, a presence as Devon’s, and she found those things made it difficult for her to remain unaffected.

Tasting Devon so often had made her Claire’s favorite vintage and the witch’s defiant personality made subduing her and possessing her intoxicating beyond measure.

Claire became enthralled by the witch, her attraction to Devon and her desire for her slowly morphing into something that went beyond the need for blood. When she first found herself missing Devon when they were apart, Claire told herself that it was the blood she missed, not the woman. However, Claire was forced to admit to herself that her feelings for Devon had become more complicated after the third time she had snuck out of Devon’s spa with angry red nail marks lining her back, her lips tasting strongly of Devon’s desire but not at all of her blood.

Claire’s cravings were no longer endangering her family’s safety, but when she realized that she wanted Devon as well as Devon’s blood, she knew that her actions would put her marriage at risk if they were discovered. She hadn’t been able to stop when the realization hit her, but every time she found herself in Devon’s arms, between Devon’s legs, and knuckle deep inside of the witch, the guilt building inside of her grew and grew, torturing her day and night until finally Claire found the strength to pull away from Devon for good.

Or so the plan had been.

She had relapsed a couple of times that first month after she told Devon it had to end, but for the three months that followed she had kept her word and stayed away. She had to avoid all contact with Devon to manage it. The sight of the blonde, the scent of her, the feel of her fingers trailing down her arm were too much for Claire to resist and so she had to excise Devon completely from her life, going so far as to avoid the street Devon’s spa resided on. It wasn’t a complete victory over her feelings for the blonde, but it was something and Claire clung to it.

She managed to deal with the slight aching Devon’s absence had produced in her heart, but her hunger for blood was harder to control when it began to reemerge. It led to reckless behavior that had sent her running to Peg, desperate for help that didn’t involve Devon bent over a bench, but when she had scented Devon approach her from behind at the carnival, and had felt the blonde’s warm breath on her skin as Devon leaned in to whisper to her, she knew it wouldn’t be long until she found herself at the blonde’s door again.

“You’re going to ruin my life,” Claire husked, her eyes hooding as she listened to the sound of Devon’s heart pumping and blood rushing through her veins.

“No,” Devon whispered, shivering as Claire’s nose pressed against her cheek and the brunette’s hips ground against her. “You’re going to ruin your life. You burn too brightly, Claire. You can’t be contained,” she whispered arching into Claire’s wandering hands. “You’re a Greek tragedy. Dark days are ahead, but at least if you go down playing with me you’ll receive a lot of pleasure before the crushing weight of your existence overwhelms you.”

By the end of her speech Devon’s lips had curved into a smugly teasing smile and Claire growled in frustration and grinded against Devon again, using her teeth to nip at the witch’s neck angrily until Devon released a small sound of pain and tried to pull away from her.

Claire immediately followed the blonde and brought her lips back to the witches neck, but this time she licked the flesh soothingly and kissed it softly, wanting to feel Devon straining into her body instead of angling away from it.

The truth of the matter was that Claire was damned if she did and she was damned if she didn’t.

If she didn’t let Devon soothe the roaring hunger inside of her it would lead to her killing again and if that were to happen Dylan would surely follow through on his threat to take Emily and leave.

However, if Claire gave into her need for Devon and Dylan found out about what they were doing together, then it was likely that he would take Emily and leave.

Doing nothing wouldn’t help her. Doing something wouldn’t help her either, but Claire was programmed for action not sedentary, and when presented with the choice between inaction and action, she always acted.

“I hate you,” Claire muttered, yanking up Devon’s skirt forcefully until it was bunched around the witch’s waist.

“I know,” Devon sighed, parting her legs for the brunette.

Claire’s fingers slipped beneath Devon’s panties, trailing through the damp, neatly trimmed blonde curls she found there. Devon moaned at the contact and Claire leaned forward, licking and sucking at the blonde’s neck as Devon undulated her hips, arching into Claire’s touch.

“It’s yours,” Devon groaned, threading her fingers through Claire’s hair, pressing her face tightly against her neck. “Take it.”

Two fingers pushed inside of Devon and the blonde gasped and the sighed peacefully before a smile touched her lips.

“All of it,” the witch murmured shakily.

Claire’s lips stilled against Devon’s neck for a moment, then her body shuddered and she moaned before razor sharp points punctured Devon’s smooth skin.

As Devon’s blood flowed into her mouth and her fingers plunged into the blonde’s inviting wetness, Claire’s heart sang and her mind howled.

As much as she wanted to, in that moment, Claire couldn’t deny that Devon was right.

She had missed this.

The End