justsookie | breathed so deep i thought i'd drown; it feels better biting down

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breathed so deep i thought i'd drown; it feels better biting down

She should have known that it would only be a matter of time until someone noticed. It was easier to watch out for herself shortly after first arriving, a pocketknife buried deep in her purse and nightly practice sessions for holding that light between her hands, the fae's warmth thrumming against her fingertips. But day after day, nothing happened. The daytime is all hers to play with, roaming the city, searching for clothing outlets, boutiques, bakeries and coffee shops. And in the evening, she's free to smile more while under the protection of women and men who know what they're doing, strength and cunning plentiful among all of them. She sleeps soundly, knowing that Lafayette's only some flights of stairs away.

Complacency becomes the theme long before she realizes it.

So when she heads home one evening and notices a series of steps clipping fast behind her, she assumes that it's just another drunken asshole, someone who probably thinks that leaving a generous tip entitles him to a little extra something later. Sookie picks up her pace, not yet casting a look over her shoulder as she holds her purse closer to her chest. Her apartment is only a couple of blocks away, it won't be hard to make it back.

Until she suddenly feels a rush of air all around her, shoes slipping off and heels dragging against concrete, the wind knocked out of her as a pair of darkly blown eyes rake over her body and press her up against a wall.

"You make one more move and I'll scream," she warns, a soft thrumming energy building by her fingertips, but it doesn't linger long before Sookie feels her arm wrenched up high above her head. Letting out a cry of pain, she struggles against the hold, but the man is much larger, much taller, and she can't get the leverage she needs when all her limbs are stretched.

"I think I'd like that," the man breathes, grinning before his fangs suddenly slot into place, long and sharp. "No one's going to hear you in this part of town, sweetheart."

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"Maybe a little bit of hiding," Kisuke says, the Cheshire smile returning from before, though a muted iteration. He allows himself a sigh of relief at the hot water and the humid air, blinking through the steam to take in the long curve of her spine. All of his favorite parts of a woman were on her back. The nape of her neck. The dimple of the small of her back. The place where the curve of her ass met the top of her thigh. He keeps his hands to himself for the time being, but lets his interest be known in the slow trace of his eyes.

"But my body isn't a great source of conceit. The way it looks is only a conclusion of the way that it's used. A tool is a tool. It's my face," he says, reaching for the shampoo bottle. He pours a generous amount into the cup of one palm before replacing the bottle and coating the fingers of each hand with it. "That's the handsome part."

Reaching forward, he cards fingers through her wet hair, tips to root, before working it to lather with fingers pressing with soft insistence at her scalp, intent circles above her temples and behind the delicate shell of her ears.

Edited 2013-11-18 02:44 (UTC)

Sookie lets out a soft hum through her exhale, lips slightly parted to allow for the trickle of water down her face, wetting lips slightly too dry from the late autumn air. Breathing in, she feels the warmth of the shower seep through her body, and upon hearing Kisuke's voice reverberating through the small room, closes her eyes to drown in the sound. He has a friendly voice, she thinks, though it's more sobered now than it had been when they met.

The fingers in her hair relax her to the point of drowsiness, and so Sookie traces her own hands along her body, tracing invisible lines and drawing against her own curves. Round one breast, then down the center, over to the cut of her hip.

"You could say the same thing about my body, or anyone's, couldn't you? You're not completely born with it, not as much as you are a face. It reflects what you do," she points out, fighting the urge to lean back against his body, skim thrumming with the unfamiliar distance. Eric and Bill, they could have been pressed flush against her back by this point. "But you weren't lookin' at mine like it's just a tool."

Down, along the cut of her hip, fingers tracing gently between her thighs.

"Because your body is yours, and not mine. That's the only difference that is ever relevant." He gathers her long hair together, holds it under the water of the shower and threads fingers through it until it runs clear. Picking the soap up from its tray recessed into the wall, he starts with her shoulders and the back of her neck, running it across wet skin. He follows it with his tongue once, tasting sweet like the running water and the soap.

Working lower, long fingers pay careful attention to every knot of muscle in her back, smoothing her out with careful precision, her anatomy mapped out clearly in his mind. In his time, he's forgotten more about her body than she will ever know. He has no fear of demonstrating such.

Hands sweeping down, his touch grows gentler as he reaches the swell of her ass, tracing a finger along the cleft with feather-light touch before sweeping around with both hands to her hips, pulling her back against him. "Your hair's washed. Anything else I can help with?"

Edited 2013-11-18 03:13 (UTC)

Perhaps too morbid to think about for long, Sookie can't help noticing the ease with which Kisuke's able to trace able fingers along planes of muscle, relaxing her shoulders, her back, until she feels boneless and adrift. Heavily hooded eyes follow the billowing steam in the shower, lungs taking in a sharp breath when she feels Kisuke's fingers trace lower, closer to and yet too far from where she longs for them most.

Relief cascades over her when he finally pulls her back against his body, and with a slight lean, Sookie stretches an arm over her shoulder and hooks her hand around the back of his neck, keeping him close. He's a tease, and anything but a gentleman, but it gives Sookie courage enough to arch against his body, against the hardness she feels pressed near the small of her back. His skin runs hot, a rarity to her memory and cherished all the more for it.

"Well, you know, you hands are great," she murmurs, tilting her head to the side, hips rocking back once more. "But I think they've missed a spot, don't you?"

"Do I?" he asks, amusement toying at his voice. Moving one hand from her hip, he takes one of the wash-towels to slip it between their bodies, slowly cleaning the rest of what's left stuck to his chest with the soap from her back and his hands. The water runs pink for a minute, before he discards the towel and dips his head to press a kiss against the top of her head, lips against her wet hair.

Jostling to reach around her then, he quickly turns the shower off, and flips the metal knob to stopper the tub and let it fill. Being in such a lonely building can be a blessing. There's little competition for hot water.

Folding the curtain back, he settles himself against the back of the slick tub to slide down it, legs bracketing hers, and shoots a coy look up at her. "My hands shouldn't get to have all of the fun," he says, nodding for her to join him. He has a plan that suits him better, though he's more content to keep his cards close to his chest for the moment.

Blinking in surprise and quickly wrapping her arms around her chest when the shower stops, Sookie watches as Kisuke slides down to a seat, his smile satisfied, as though everything's gone perfectly according to plan. Her chest briefly tightens at a memory, one of her first from being intimate with Bill, of the two of them seated under warm, scented water, opposite one another. Communicating with nothing more than a look for some time. Blissfully silent to her after years of too much blah, blah, blah.

Taking a deep breath, she smiles, soft and on the edge of overwhelmed before she kneels down. It might be more comfortable for her to press back to his chest again, but she's too impatient now after several minutes of teasing, and in spite of the hardness against her knees, Sookie kneels and lets a hand skirt down Kisuke's chest, over his abdomen, to where she rests it by his inner thigh, fingertips brushing idly. Her real objective is a kiss, noses bumping briefly as she takes a tentative peck, then bolder, tugging on his lip between teeth and sighing in longing. She's missed this. A gentle, unrushed intimacy. Spontaneous and unexpected.

"Do you usually bring stray women home like this?" she asks, pulling back to press lips down the line of his neck, fingers brushing along his collarbone. "You seem awfully good at it."

"If you're asking about strays," he says, words airy as he pulls for a breath in the wake of her kiss. His arms find her back, fingers trailing along the line of her spine before sweeping around to nestle between their bodies, cupping her breasts in rough fingers with a gentle touch. He searches for her face again, pressing a kiss to the space just in front of her ear before sweeping his tongue up and over the round edge. He follows it with the scrape of teeth and soft pants of breath, pleased with the treatment he's getting from her.

"I take home a lot of them. If you're talking about women, the ones that I've enjoyed the most are the kind you only get when they're prepared to have you."

Edited 2013-11-18 07:06 (UTC)

Letting her arms slide fully around Kisuke's shoulders, Sookie gasps, breath hot against his cheek as his fingers slide up and brush over her breasts, squeezing lightly, almost reverently. The teeth against her ear earn a rake of her fingers in response, blunt nails dragging down the front of his chest, brushing against coarse hair underneath the level of the water.

"I hope that means I follow the pattern," Sookie murmurs against the shell of his ear, sliding forward until her thighs press against the cradle of his hips, the flat of her palm lightly brushing up the side of Kisuke's length. Ducking her head down, the bridge of Sookie's nose drags along the rough stubble by Kisuke's jaw, until she's able to duck and press a quick kiss to the soft skin underneath. "How do you want me?"

Her question gets only a subtle smirk in reply, one that bites off a hiss of frustrated pleasure as her hand falls against the throb in his cock. Sliding his hands down the length of her front, sword-rough fingertips grazing along the trembling skin of her belly, he finds a grip on the underside of her thighs and gives a rough tug.

He pulls her hips up to meet him, rough hairs on his chin brushing the sensitive skin where her thigh meets the join of her body.

"You should do me a favor and turn that water off," he says, "Or we're going to end up making a mess soon enough."

He breathes her in, smelling like soap and a woman, and takes her in with low-lidded eyes, hidden beneath dark lashes. She'll get there before he does, or he hasn't been taught well enough otherwise. Tongue darting out, he traces a slow line along the folds between her legs with cat-like satisfaction, curling around the slick pink nub between them when it's found.

Whatever shade of control Sookie had is completely wrested from her with a sudden slide and a pair of sure hands. Dazed, Sookie only just manages to follow Kisuke's instruction, breath light as she twists the water off, blush high on her cheeks and chest tight in anticipation. "Nothing wrong with a mess, right?" she murmurs, heels sliding against the tub and hands quickly gripping the sides, the lack of balance striking in the moment.

Even with the rush of air against her thigh driving anticipation, Sookie can't suppress the sudden jolt in her body when Kisuke's tongue makes contact, the muscles in her abdomen tightening as heat pools quickly below. He's slow, almost gentle, but the contrast is so great against her past experiences that Sookie finds herself overwhelmed, head tilting back against the tub with a gasp.

"Oh, god," she cries out, the side of her foot brushing against the sharper cut of Kisuke's hip before thudding against the end of the tub. One hand darts down to thread through damp, heavy hair, fingers gripping tight and giving him a slight tug, urging him closer. "Please."

He laughs, slow and deep, before the laughter is swallowed by a smaller noise at the tight tug of small hands wound through his hair. It isn't the first time he's been so glad to keep it long enough for a good yank, but it's been too long. Pressing forward again, he grips her hip, touch going from gentle to strong and sure to keep her rooted as he slips between again, sighing at the throb and the heat against his tongue.

He finds her leg with his free hand, pressing a palm against it to draw it up the length, beneath her thigh, until long fingers find her just below where he works. He strokes, playing along the edges, until he's certain that she's slick enough that thin callouses won't catch when he slips one inside, and then another, groaning and shifting beneath her. The heat between his legs is too hot, and too heavy, but he'd been far from lying when he'd told her he preferred the wanting to the having.

Edited 2013-11-18 09:43 (UTC)

She tugs again, even though he's already impossibly close, the throb of her clit clear against the press of his tongue, and when Sookie blinks, she notices the haze of the light in the room, fuzzy and too bright as she briefly struggles against Kisuke's hold, wanting more. His hands, broad and strong, hold her down until the instinct subsides, but it doesn't stop Sookie from getting a better grip on Kisuke's hair, feeling water trickle between her fingers.

Save for the occasional splash of water, the only sounds in the room seem to be the rush of her breath and the moans falling soft from her lips, uneven and keening. Her legs shift up, unable to stay still, heels hooking around Kisuke's back but struggling not to jostle him any further than he's already been by the demanding pull of her hands. Sookie hisses, then sighs with relief at the feel of rough fingers stroking inside of her, stretching, filling her after far too long without a gentle touch and brazen intimacy.

"Fuck," Sookie gasps, a harder drag of Kisuke's tongue sending a sudden tightness winding through her body, and she tries to hold it off, doesn't want him to stop, wanting the need to last as long as possible.

The little, bright noises that she makes only drive him on; he likes to know that he's doing the right thing, and her effusive reactions confirm it. He pulls away with a shuddering breath, lifting heavy eyes to find her face. It's gratifying as anything else he's done, but it may be time to stop ignoring the insistent throb of his cock between his legs.

He slips another finger inside her, pressing against her walls, short and clean nails nipping before he slips his hand away finally and pulls himself up against the back of the tub with his elbows, settling her further down his body. He folds pale hands over her tan hips and guides her toward him, tip teasing against her. He won't have any leverage from this position, but he really doesn't mind. It may even be his intention. She can show him herself what pleases her most. He'll concentrate on watching her.

"You've got some mouth on you," he teases, between pulls for breath.

Edited 2013-11-20 05:42 (UTC)

Sookie makes no effort to be coy about the press of fingers inside her, lips parted and breath uneven as she bears down over Kisuke's fingers, letting the press relax her, hands smoothing down Kisuke's chest and rubbing in uneven circles over his skin. She can't help the small smile that flits across her face when she feels him pressing up against her, leaning forward quickly and cupping Kisuke's jaw in her hands. Knees aching, Sookie gives no pause before slipping her tongue between his lips, carefully tracing against the point of his canine before worrying his lower lip until it's slightly rosy and swollen.

"And you've got some of me on your mouth," Sookie points out with a cheeky smile, pressing one last, lingering kiss to the bow of Kisuke's lips before glancing down between their bodies. She starts to bear down over Kisuke's cock, moving steadily in spite of the slight sting, hissing until she's seated fully on Kisuke and letting out a high whine.

"You feel good," she breathes, shoulders momentarily tense before she works on relaxing her muscles, angling her hips until he sinks in deeper. "Does this mean I get to boast that I've been intimate with a god?" she jokes, a small hum under her breath as Sookie raises herself slightly, shivering at the friction.

"No." Lifting a hand from her hip, he traces the line of his throbbing lower lip with a wet thumb, sighing with eyes shut lightly at the feel of her covering him, her soft thighs around his waist and the sliding heat of her settling around the ache of him as she seats him fully inside of her. "Just a particularly persuasive salesman."

He lifts his other hand to take one of hers, leading it gently to his mouth. He still saves his kisses for parts of her that aren't her lips, pressing one with another relieved sigh to the palm of her hand before slipping the tip of her index finger between his teeth to toy with it.

"Women like you are really," he says, flashing dark eyes open again to urge her forward. "The death of me."

Relaxed doesn't feel like quite the right word to describe the way Kisuke appears to her now, but it's fascinating nonetheless to draw a contrast between his soft words and the toying brush of his fingertips against the direction of a vampire's hands. It makes her wonder, in the back of her mind, if death gods aren't swayed by something so small as a hint of fairy blood in a woman's veins. If there's something more deliberate and cerebral to Kisuke's choice, contrasting sharply with the desperation and instinct of a vampire.

Strange, how his gentleness only inspires further impatience in her chest, not one typically denied as she presses her index finger further between Kisuke's lips, bearing her fingertip down against the flat of his tongue.

"Suck," she instructs him, brow briefly furrowing before she eases her weight down against his body again, hips rolling and starting to pick up pace. Her free hand winds around the back of Kisuke's neck, burying fingertips in the lush curls of his hair again.

Groaning, shifting beneath her with surprise when she presses down into his mouth, he slides a hand beneath the water and does his best to anchor himself, though it mostly slides along the warm porcelain. It isn't Yoruichi-san that he's pinned under, not her night-dark wildness and her raking nails, but it's enough of a proud and forward disposition that it's enjoyable like he hasn't had in some time. He might wish for her to be a little sharper, but a blunt tool can be just as pleasant sometimes.

He can't speak or breathe through his mouth this way, tongue curled around her fine fingers, and it isn't long before he has difficulty keeping up appearance, face pink and breath coming through his nose raggedly as the feel of her pulling him along with her now toward completion coils strongly in his belly, a white and hot snake.

Edited 2013-11-20 07:09 (UTC)

There isn't much space between fevered thought to draw comparisons, but Sookie can't help the way that her eyes are drawn to Kisuke's quickly flushing cheeks, and the uneven rush of air drawn into his lungs. It makes his pale skin stand out for what it is, seemingly alive, and certainly flowing with energy; Sookie finds herself leaning close until their foreheads touch, her eyes dark and slightly unfocused as she finally pulls her fingers back just to watch the rise and fall of Kisuke's chest. Her fingernails drag across from one side to the other, focused on the flush that has risen and settled into the expanse of skin, before she drags wet fingertips over the darker skin of his nipple, massaging.

Only when a sudden jerk of his body brushes against the throbbing of her clit does Sookie find her attention pulled away, a sharp gasp pulling between her lips as she angles herself to try for that same friction again, warmth settling in uncertain waves through her abdomen. Squeezing her eyes shut, a few colors bloom at the edges of her vision in the low light, but most of Sookie's focus is on that deep ache. Wrapping one arm around Kisuke's shoulders to brace herself, all that breaks the silence is her ragged pull of breath and the quiet splash of skin against skin.

When she arrives for the first time, it's quiet, a shudder passing through her body and chest arching against Kisuke's body, pliant and heated. Even as Kisuke's stubble scrapes against Sookie's cheek, she doesn't stop moving, hands squeezing tightly around Kisuke's shoulders as she bears herself down repeatedly, tumbling over the edge.

A gasp that had been seated deep in his chest wells up when she arches against him, clasping around him, the smooth muscle of her thighs drawing in to keep them anchored together. His hips lift against her, his hands flying to the lip of the tub to hold tightly, knuckles blanched with the effort of holding himself back. He doesn't let himself come with her. It's difficult, but the difficulty makes it sweeter, and the release will only be kinder when it comes.

Turning his face into hers, he presses their cheeks together again, mouthing wet kisses finally to her chin, the line of her brow, her swollen lips, with muffled noises of appreciation and fondness. "Sookie-san."

An uneven slip of heel against the smooth porcelain of the tub has Sookie's gaze quickly rising to Kisuke's expression, surprised by the tautness of his cheeks and the effort in his locked jaw. Had it not been for what he shared earlier with her, about there being pleasure in the restraint and denial, she might have worried. It's not long before he's peppering her with kisses and soft murmurs, and Sookie can only laugh breathlessly in response, almost purring where her body presses flush against Kisuke's.

Curiosity gets the better of her before long, though, and with the throbbing still sharp lower in her body, Sookie leans forward with renewed effort, sucking sharply at Kisuke's fluttering pulse point as she picks up pace, lifting herself slowly before quickly taking Kisuke in again.

If denial really is that enjoyable, she imagines he can handle this much.

"Ah," he pants into the space between them sharply when her mouth wraps around his neck, her teeth worrying at the skin over the thrum of his heart, skipping to keep up with building pressure curling in his core, drifting through his limbs and making them feel heavy and graceless. Her hips rock harshly against his, her hand in his hair offering no relief. The shift of her weight above him, the brush of her breasts against the plane of his chest, the details swim away from him before leaping back to sharp focus as he comes beneath her, body archng up from where it rests in the water. The pleasure rushes through him, leaving his fingertips tingling and his vision sparking with light.

It takes a lot of self-restraint not to break focus when she feels Kisuke's muscles tighten underneath her, tempting her to pull back and observe his expressions in full. But there's something about his attentiveness that only encourages her to return the same favor in kind, slowly rolling her hips against the waves of tension that pass through his body, until he's suddenly heavy under her touch and the pace of his breathing breaks.

She pulls back then, smoothing both palms over his chest, then down along his sides, hands splashing faintly as they dip under the water to give Kisuke one final, selfish squeeze around his rear. "Hello, handsome," she murmurs, grinning as she leans a little closer, focusing on heavy eyelids.

It's a moment of fuzzy confusion before he manages a deep, thorough sigh of relief and shuffles under her to lift his head, offerng a guileless, lazy sort of smile. It isn't often he's had a chance for this, and he misses it sorely. Once he'd settled on Ururu and Jinta, life had been a bit more close-to-home, and a bit more careful of who came over, and when.

"Hello," he agrees, before shifting again, a frown crossing his brow for a brief second. "You look much better after a bath. But the water's getting colder. You should get dried off and enjoy a little hospitality while I make sure to get your clothes in the wash before you go. There's a television. Are you hungry?"

Letting out a soft gasp at the movement of Kisuke's body, Sookie carefully glances down between them, hands on the rounded edges of the tub before she lifts herself off of him, cheeks immediately coloring at the sensation of a wet warmth sliding down either of her inner thighs. She's never felt this before after laying with a man — vampires weren't capable of it. Sookie wonders if there's a practical reason for such a design to be given to a spirit's body.

Maybe just to help him pass as normal under scrutiny.

Cheeks aching with her constant smile, Sookie laughs lightly, carefully resting against the slippery side of the tub, their legs spectacularly tangled in the small space. "I'm a little thirsty, actually," confesses Sookie, briefly pressing the back of her hand to her lips in embarrassment. "But you don't have to trouble yourself. Though I appreciate the idea of having some company before I make the walk of shame home."

He slips and shuffles only a little as he drags himself up from where he was half-curled on the bottom of the tub. The water slides off, dripping from the tips of long fingers, and he gives his arms a small shake, unbashful about his own nudity. He'd had that beat out of him at an early age, with the women he'd spent the most time with.

"Something to drink is even easier, so you don't need to feel like you're asking anything much, you know." He moves away for the thick towels, glancing back over his shoulder with a smile, less broad than some that met his face. A little concerned. "You shouldn't talk about it that way. And anyway, if you want, you can stay here for however long suits you. I just assumed you had things to get back to. Maybe I assumed wrong."

He stretches an arm out toward her, offering a towel.

Edited 2013-11-23 06:22 (UTC)

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