Lunacy
"You're sure it's not too tight?" Jaune asks, kneeling in front of her.
"It's fine, I promise."
His brow pulls a little tighter, still showing worry as he works the clasp of the belt together. He slips two fingers under the leather collar, trying to assure himself more than her that it's snug but safe. He does the same to the thick and heavy straps looping beneath her arms to keep her neck from taking all the strain.
Pyrrha meets his eyes, smiling gently. "It's okay." she repeats.
He nods, breaking eye contact as he reaches down for the heavy steel chain beside him. He threads the end of it through a metal loop on the side of the collar, then through one in the back, and then through a final one on the other side and pulls the length of metal until it pops taught. His hands shake a little as he picks up a heavy padlock -the heaviest he could find- and stands, pulling the free end of the chain to a metal loop secured to the concrete floor. He secures the two, the padlock closing with a loud snap.
"Did I pull it too short?"
Pyrrha tests it, making sure she can straighten her back as she sits on the floor. "It's all right." and she nods, the chain rattling a little.
He nods as well, slowly with a puff of an exhale. "Ready for the harness?"
Pyrrha just smiles, trying to show the confidence and trust she knows he needs. She wants to talk to him, make some sort of conversation to distract him but knows it won't work. He's too focused on his task now, too worried. So she just watches him, makes eye contact at every opportunity as he finagles with more leather and steel and moves behind her, kneeling again. A steel bracket lines up with her spine and a clasp closes around the ring at the back of the collar. Then she lets him take her hands one at a time and carefully bend her arms behind her back after cinching a solid and heavy belt around her waist. He fits her fists into the crook her elbows, forearms crossed, before closing metal cuffs around them to keep them there. This is easily the second most uncomfortable part of this strange ritual of theirs, her minor discomfort punctuated with the snap of more padlocks.
"You okay?" he asks again.
"I'm fine." she assures him after a stabilizing breath. Heat is starting to simmer under her skin, an itch scattering across her nerve endings and making the small hairs across her body bristle.
"Squeeze my hand."
She smiles a little wider at the feeling his heated palm against hers, and she hopes her tight grip encourages him. "What time is it?"
"We've got a few minutes yet." is all he says as he stands up again.
Pyrrha tries to focus on his footsteps instead of the rattling of more chains, on his heartbeat that is becoming louder and louder in her steadily more sensitive ears instead of the minor throbbing in her mouth, around her canines.
Jaune knows this is what she wants, but it's still difficult to do. He knows it keeps them both from consequences they'll regret, but that doesn't make him like the look of her in chains any more than usual. Which is to say he doesn't like it at all.
It makes her feel safe, secure, it keeps her happy. And it keeps her here. It's what you both want.
And it's all true, but he still doesn't like doing this to her every month. She deserves better.
"Jaune?"
He shakes his head, snapping out of his own thoughts. "Sorry." He threads a collection of chains through the trio of heavy gauge rings anchored to the leather belt, padlocking them into place like all the others. He hurries, hearing her breathing starting to pitch, becoming almost feverish.
"You want your blanket?"
"Please."
He fetches the neatly folded crimson and gold afghan, unfurling it as he walks back to her. He drapes it across her bare shoulders, working it under and over the chains so it sits snugly to her naked body. He swallows quietly, seeing evidence of the impending change in her eyes now. The green of her irises is more intense, like a sun-struck gemstone instead of four leaf clovers. When she tries to smile he notices the edge her eye-teeth have taken on. A fine sheen of sweat dapples her forehead and an uncomfortable redness has risen up into her freckled cheeks.
"Can...is there anything else I can do?"
She can't help but focus on his throat, on the pulse point she can not only see but feel.
"Pyrrha?"
"Hm? Sorry," she laughs softly, then tries to hide a wince with a sharp tuck of her chin towards her chest. The muscles in her jaw clench reflexively. "I'm okay. Just lock the door."
Jaune thinks to smile but can't. He wants to touch her but knows he shouldn't, too much temptation for her to bite him. He wants to kiss her, too, but that's not a good idea either. Won't be until morning. Instead he whispers "I love you" as he stands up, finding a little comfort when she whispers back, though her voice is cracking with the makings of a growl now.
Jaune had designed the cage and the door himself, making use of his trade as an iron worker. It took him months to fully flesh out the plans for the room itself, the door for the cage alone took almost eight weeks to conceptualize and build. The floor and walls are made up from reinforced concrete, iron bars working up through the masonry and anchored several feet into the cement floor. Same with the heavy iron bars of the cage that reach below the foundation of the basement and into solid earth under the house. But the door is somewhat of a marvel even to himself.
It swings with a heavy, metallic cry and settles flush into a frame that won't allow it to go passed the profile of the bars, nestled into an iron bracket. He folds slitted braces on hinges over the door, effectively immobilizing it as they close over more metal loops welded into the door itself. Half a dozen more padlocks are closed around the loops; he pulls the bolts out of the hinges and replaces them with thick, t-shaped stakes that will keep the door from pushing open even if the locks are broken.
For a moment he props himself against the door, looking through the bars at her longingly. She tries to meet his gaze, but her muscles are starting to spasm in their telling way. It's only minutes to midnight. Jaune shuffles a few feet away from the cage, offering one last needy glance before turning away. He knows she doesn't want him to watch, to see her like that, but he also knows she doesn't want to be alone through it. Though it kills him to hear her suffer -he would bet money that she does no matter how much she says she doesn't- he sits in the middle of the floor and waits.
The growling starts in earnest and Jaune can feel his body tensing. It doesn't scare him, not by a long shot, but it gives him nauseous goosebumps all over. Always has. The growling is punctuated with chesty grunts and a sharp rattle of anchored steel. The first time he sat through this he hadn't been able to focus on anything but her heavy, frantic breathing -that had scared him more than anything. He was mortified that maybe the collar was too tight or the harness was impeding her ability to draw breath that he had almost gone into the cage only to have her scream at him and demand he stay on the other side of the bars with glowing green eyes and a mouth full of fangs.
Jaune props his elbows on his knees, pressing his folded hands to his mouth and screwing his eyes shut when she starts fighting the urge to scream. He can hear it, her bones starting to come apart and snap back together, the distinct pop of ribs pulling away from cartilage and her jaw unhinging. The pounding of resistance of chains against their moorings it almost too loud now.
Don't look, she's fine. You know she's fine and you would know if she wasn't. Just don't look.
Jaune checks his watch, counting the last few seconds to the chime of the hour, and it goes quiet after it beeps. He swallows, taking a deep breath as he stands up, and then turns around.
She's strangely beautiful like this, like a wild animal in its natural habitat is beautiful. Though he cringes a little at the thought; she doesn't belong in a cage. What he would give to let her run, but that isn't what she wants.
I hate waking up in strange places. Her voice echoes in his head as he looks her in the eyes, solid green eyes with pitch black irises that expand and contract to focus on him. I hate waking up feeling lost and confused. I know I'm safe here. I'm not alone. He can't help but stare, taking in the lush looking, dark red fur that covers her body, distracted by the large triangles of her ears turning this way and that on the sides of her head. He can't see it, but he can hear her tail sliding against the concrete.
She's quiet, more quiet than usual. For a moment Jaune thinks maybe it's getting better; Pyrrha said the change wouldn't be so hard on her as she gets older. One day she would be able to control it -God, he can't wait for that, but not for the obvious reasons- but when that initial serenity passes into a riot of wildly snapping jaws and straining, steel trap muscles, the thought scatters.
"I'll see you in the morning." he tries, unsure of whether or not she can understand. Jaune has to force himself to leave, knowing there is nothing more he can to do comfort her. His presence would only agitate her. He feels some of the weight fall from his shoulders when he closes the door -a heavy metal thing that should be on a bank vault and not in a basement- behind himself, turning the mechanism to slide three steel bars into place. He exhales, deflating as he thumps his way up the stairs.
Jaune comes back into the main house greeted by the warm, soothing aroma of tea from the kitchen. Pushing his fingers across his scalp he shuffles through the den, following the smell to a chair at the table where he deposits himself. Everything in here is so wonderfully warm, the colors, the air, the subtle yellow of the lights is such a stark contrast to the desolation of the basement. Jaune's quiet for a moment, rubbing his face with his palms before silently watching Ren move about the space with graceful purpose. Jaune marvels at him, provoking a regularly occurring thought to pass over his mind.
How do these creatures keep finding their way into my house?
But there is no disdain or disgust, just wonder. Of all people, these things kept happening to him. Was he some kind of magnet?
Ren had been the first to arrive and evidence of his presence had started in his flowerbeds. Jaune hadn't been able to make more than vegetables grow in the plots behind the house, but flowers the likes of which he had never even heard of started coming in at the advent of Spring three years ago. And all year long his plants yielded fruit and blossoms. But he hadn't the slightest clue as to Ren's presence until he left the house earlier than usual and caught a flash of something green and gilded along the tree line at the boundaries of his property. At first he thought it was just a trick of the sleep in his eyes, then he caught Ren -as an emerald and black and pink scaled Kirin- standing in his back yard a day or so later. Ren chose to show himself after realizing Jaune had taken such good care of the flowers, using his behavior as a gauge of whether or not he could keep his presence a secret.
Nora, who currently wasn't home, came shortly after. Elementals, Jaune quickly learned, have a tendency to follow magical creatures around, and Nora and Ren had been traveling together for more than a century. There were multiple reasons why they chose to show themselves to him and no one else, the paramount one being that he lived alone and was relatively isolated from the other people in town. It was easier for them to hide. Jaune didn't ask for much more explanation than that, he liked the company. And Ren was a hell of a cook.
When Pyrrha came into his life it reminded him of his mother always saying everything comes in threes. Albeit briefly. He had been so convinced in the beginning that she was human, but I guess that's why she was able to live among humans so easily. She could sell normalcy with the best of them. Nothing had seemed out of ordinary when they started seeing each other; sure, she had always been insistent on going home at a particular time every night, not just during the full moon's cycle, but he had written it off as personal preference. Same thing when he got the guts to ask her out to dinner and she ordered her steak blue-rare. Just personal preference, he thought. When she went a few days without seeing or calling him, he was convinced she was either busy or -like the few other girls he had been with- had lost interest. But then she sat him down and told him the truth, told him she had been born a werewolf.
A confession he took incredibly well. He could still remember the look on her face when he didn't panic and chase her out of the house. Doubly so when he presented her the plans for the "renovations" to his basement so she could stay with him if she wanted.
"How is she?"
Jaune's brows lift at the soft sound of Ren's voice. He didn't talk much, but when he did, Jaune always heard him.
"She's okay." he nods, taking a cup of tea when Ren offers. "Okay as she can be, I guess."
"Good." a little nod.
"Where's Nora?"
"Out." is all he says, expecting Jaune to understand. Which he doesn't, but he accepts it anyway. Elementals do their own thing, have their own business, and it wasn't his to pry in. Maybe it had something to do with the storm he heard about on the news.
Jaune just nods, taking a sip, feeling a little shock of static as it settles in his stomach. He smiles, quietly amused. Ren could be very empathetic, keen to anyone's needs and desires so long as he was physically close enough to them. Ren knew Jaune would want to stay awake for Pyrrha.
"You want to watch a movie or something?" Jaune asks.
"Perhaps in a minute, I'm baking." Ren nods absently, bending down to look through the small window in the oven door.
Jaune just nods and nurses his tea.
Within the next hour the two of them would be slumped on the sofa with Ren in control of the remote. Jaune didn't mind even if all the Kirin ever wanted to watch were historical and travel documentaries. It isn't so bad, Jaune liked to listen to him talk about the subject matter, having been to most of these places at least once in his long life, and going on in passing about the numerous lives he lived. Jaune can't help but wonder if Ren was ever lonely, ever burdened with having to reinvent himself every few decades to keep his cover. To Ren it had been a simple matter of disappearing for a few years, easy enough for a creature such as himself, especially after people stopped believing his kind existed.
Kirin had been worshiped once. Then they were hunted. After that, forgotten.
Half way through the night the house shakes, accompanying a bright flash of light and a tearing rumble in the air from the back yard. The hinges on the back door squeal as it opens and closes. Nora strides into the living room, soaking wet and stark naked, arms stretching over her head as she yawns.
Ren twists at the waist to look over the back of the couch. "You didn't land in my hibiscus again, did you?"
"Of course I didn't." Nora smiles before shaking herself, droplets of water scattering from her short red hair. "But,"
One sable brow spikes. "But?"
Nora cringes, rubbing the back of her head with a sheepish laugh. "...I hit the apple tree."
Ren's face hits the cushion with a puff of air. "It was sixty years old." he groans a little. Then he pushes himself to stand up, shoulders looking heavy.
"Is there anything I can do to help?" she tries, apologetic.
"It's fine. I'll take care of it."
Nora watches him leave the way she had come in, and for a moment she just stands there behind the sofa and pouts.
"There's dry clothes in your room." Jaune says, having stayed in his seat, refusing to turn his head.
That seemed to brighten her mood as she musses his hair, leaving it half standing with her own natural static. She bounds up the stairs, bare feet squeaking across finished hardwood. "Thanks for washing my favorite jammies!" she calls down to him.
"You're welcome." he offers up simply, smiling to himself. A smile that widens a little when he hears her come down the stairs and then feels her vault over the back of the sofa to plop down on the cushion beside him. She snatches up the remote and starts flipping through the channels, sometimes changing two at a time as her affinity shorted out the device.
"How's Pyrrha?" she asks in passing but with genuine concern.
"It's been quiet, so I think she's fine." he nods.
"You want me to go check?"
"No." if anyone was going in there while she was under the change it was going to be him, never mind that Nora couldn't be infected. "It's all right."
"Okay."
They sit quietly until Ren comes back inside, looking more pleased than when he left. Perhaps he'd been able to salvage the tree. He'll join them on the couch with a plate of pastries from the oven, only to have Nora jump up from her seat to fetch a glass of milk. The three of them spend the rest of the night together like this, only arguing once over what to watch.
When the world outside the windows starts to gray with the approach of dawn, Jaune pushes himself off the couch and starts moving about the house, busying himself with little preparations. He starts upstairs in the bedroom, making the bed and setting out his work clothes for later. After putting a few more somewhat-essentials out on his nightstand he heads back downstairs and into the kitchen. He manages an armload of items onto the counter from the refrigerator; eggs, cheese, bacon, potatoes, whatever he can think of with high amounts of protein and starch, two things Pyrrha was going to need in ample portions to recover. But he doesn't start cooking. In fact he won't. He knows Ren prefers to do it; the Kirin likes to do what he can to take care of her too. For a being who has never sired offspring, Ren could be unusually paternal.
Jaune returns upstairs when the sky starts brightening, grabbing a satin top sheet from the hall closet before going back into the living room and turns a corner to start down into the basement. It's almost time, his hand starting to itch with the desire to grab the ring of keys waiting by the heavy vault-style door. When his watch chimes the hour he does just that, turning the wheel to pull the iron bolts back. An easy exhale leaves him when he sees her, glad to catch her in the last throws of the transformation. He never liked the idea of her having to wait for him, still in restraints.
Sweat pours over her flushed skin, dripping from her nose and chin now that the fur has ungrown and can no longer draw it away. Her breaths are deep, rhythmic, stabilizing as her mind comes back together. Pyrrha shivers with fatigue and the oncoming chill of concrete beneath her, her core temperature dropping back to normal levels. Everything is starting to feel heavy, her skin suddenly so tender and her muscles taxed to their limit. She swallows the urge to jerk against the chains, the remnants of her primal instincts tugging at her. She blows at the stray strands of hair in her face.
"Good morning," Jaune greets softly, his quiet anxiety ebbing when Pyrrha smiles at him in spite of the sight of her fangs.
"Morning." she responds, sounding hoarse.
The keys in his hand jingle brightly as he sorts through them, starting on the padlocks on the door. "Are you okay?"
She nods initially, but then acknowledges the bitterness in her mouth that wasn't there before. "I think I bit my tongue."
"Is it bad?"
"I don't think so." she giggles a little. "Maybe you should take a closer look."
"I'm sure you'd love that." he grins back through the bars.
She would, actually. Something about his fingers near her mouth got her going, kissing his palms is one of her favorite things to do. Maybe she's just hungry.
The harness doesn't feel so cumbersome when she watches him step into the cage. She eyes the satin sheet draped over his arm and can't wait to get it around her. Not just to inch away from the cold, but to feel something smooth against her overstimulated flesh, something other than leather and steel.
Jaune doesn't like how the restraints leave red and purple marks on her every time they do this. He knows damn good and well that he doesn't make them too tight, knows it's just from her pulling against them throughout the night, but he still doesn't like it. It makes his gut twist worse than when he has to put them on her in the first place. But he's so happy to take them off. There isn't much else that brings him as much pleasure as undoing the padlocks and buckles.
Pyrrha pulls her hands around in front of her once they're free, rubbing her reddened wrists to help distract her from her own thinning patience. She's ready to be out of this cage, out of this room, she's ready to feel somewhat human again. Her smile is genuine when Jaune kneels in front of her, his hands moving to the buckle of her collar as she presents her neck. When it slides free she takes a cleansing breath. Finally. She takes his hands in both of hers and just holds on, mindful of her claws.
Jaune kisses her forehead. "Ren will have your breakfast ready soon. You want to get dressed?"
"No." she chuckles a little, a sound mixed with the clearing of her throat. Frankly, her skin feels a little too much like sandpaper right now. "I want a kiss."
He tilts his head, giving her a knowing look with hints of a restrained grin. "...You do remember it was you who said we shouldn't, right?"
"I know what I said." she dips her chin, neck still bared, somewhat submissive. He's right. He's always right, and it's good of him to try and keep her to her word. "Please?"
"Just one." he says, lining her jaw with his hand, lifting her chin with a gentle pull of his finger. Her lips feel dry, chapped, but he doesn't care. He still loves her and this still feels like heaven. One kiss becomes one, two, three, he feels the heat stirring in his chest...and then jerks back when he feels the pressure of her teeth on his bottom lip. "Pyrrha," he breathes, wary.
"I'm sorry." she hates seeing the little fear in his eyes, but she just needed a taste of him, something to calm the growing hunger for something other than actual food. A werewolf has her needs. "You know I wouldn't bite you."
"Not intentionally, no, but," he doesn't have to finish, he can tell by the way her gaze breaks away from him that she knows what he's going to say. Jaune just shrugs, gripping her hand a little tighter. "Come on, lets get you upstairs."
Pyrrha loves the way he wraps her up so lovingly in satin and helps her climb the stairs even though she doesn't really need him to. She loves how his arm hangs so comfortably around her waist, a wonderful contrast to the countless months she had to spend alone, waking up in the woods or a secluded thicket in a park or even behind a dumpster. And she loves greeting Nora and Ren when she reaches the top of the stairs, though her heightened senses pull away from them briefly as she zeroes in on the aroma of food. She makes a face when Ren insists she dress before she eats, a scowl she means in fun and he takes as such.
"I've set out some clothes for you," Jaune says softly, guiding her up to the second floor.
Pyrrha feels a warm serenity wash over her as she steps into their room, her senses filled with them, the sight of their belongings, their joined scent in the room, the familiar weight of the air. It reminds her where home is. It's here. It's with him.
Without a second thought she drops the satin sheet from her shoulders, letting it pool on the floor behind her as she stands beside the bed, reaching for the folded shirt and shorts before her. She smiles at the bare essential choice of the clothes. She couldn't handle too much contact with something other than skin the first day after the change, and the sensitivity would pitch again tonight before she transformed again. The process and its gambit of wild sensations would repeat itself one last time tomorrow, the full moon having waned too far to affect her after that.
Out of respect Jaune tries not to watch her dress, but his gaze is drawn all the same. Not by her naked backside, but by the bright red abrasions across her skin, on her elbows and knees and shoulders. Flesh rubbed raw by her wild thrashing. They would be gone in an hour or so, but that didn't make them any easier for him to look at.
"Do you need anything?" the question is habitual, but no less sincere.
"Just you."
And he senses her intent as a steady simmer beneath his skin. Jaune knew her expectations, they were the same every month around this time. She expects to be well fed, bedded, and then left alone to enjoy a few hours of undisturbed, deep and regenerative sleep.
"Eat first."
"Party pooper." she giggles, pulling the thin cotton tank top over her head, partly amazed by her own flirtatious urge. "What's a quickie before breakfast?"
"Dangerous." he says frankly, unconsciously sounding too serious. It doesn't make him any less right. A hungry werewolf is a risky lover indeed. "And you know a quickie doesn't do it for you during the full moon."
"Fair enough." she sighs, pulling the shorts up and working the button into place. Against her better judgment she strolls across the room to where he stands in the doorway and laces her hands together behind his head. Instead of lifting on the balls of her feet to kiss him, she lays her head on his shoulder, nostrils flaring as she inhales. "You smell good."
"Not as good as breakfast." he does his best to keep her focused. He knows what she's trying to do. "Come on." and he gently cuffs her forearms with his hands and tries to pry her loose. "Ren's making omelets. You love omelets, right?"
"Almost as much as I love you." she purrs into his chest.
He starts walking backwards, carefully, one foot sliding after the other. "And while I'm flattered, I know that's your hunger talking. Come on," he encourages gently, still gripping her arms and starting to pull her. "Move your feet."
"Carry me." and she starts laughing half way through the lax command, her bare feet squeaking as they drag the floor.
"Oh, so you're too weak to walk but not for a quickie?" he tries not to laugh.
"That's because loving you is easy."
Her words ripple up his back in a warm shiver. They had talked about this before, how her needs would affect him too since he was her...whatever. He refrained from using the word mate, not entirely sure as to why. Maybe it just didn't...feel right. Mate sounded so permanent, and they weren't...not that he didn't want to... Still, her physiology was reacting to him and his in turn; by the time they finished with breakfast he would count himself lucky if he was able to get them back to the bedroom with any clothes on.
In a way they eventually compromise; Pyrrha tucks her entire body against him, looping her legs around his waist and locking her ankles, her face pushed into the crook of his neck. His only stipulation is that she minds her fangs as he carefully navigates down the stairs.
All thought in regards to the pursuit of Jaune's taught behind are completely lost the moment Pyrrha takes her seat at the table. Ren has to roll the omelet he made for her onto her plate, the mess of egg and meat and vegetables as thick as a man's arm. Pleasure pulls a full smile across the Kirin's face as she digs into it -he knows she'll eat it all, maybe even have room for a second judging by the way she's tearing it apart. Before she gets too far into it, he carefully navigates a frying pan over the table, pushing a healthy portion of fried potatoes onto her plate. He's still smiling as he serves the others.
Jaune is content, absently listening as Nora goes on about the storm she and several other of her kind had stirred up last night. He's more focused on Pyrrha. She shovels her food like she just can't eat fast enough, and he vaguely remembers when the behavior used to worry him, remembers how his mind simply couldn't wrap around the idea of a person needing to eat so much so quickly. He tries not to laugh when she clears her plate and eagerly but politely requests a second helping.
As he finishes his food his attention is pulled to a mug of tea that Ren sets in front of him as he finally sits down, but it isn't the tea he had earlier. That had been an amber color, this was a rich, almost blood red. He takes it without a hitch, offering a dip of his chin in thanks as he takes an initial mouthful. Cinnamon and cloves smooth over his tongue and fill his head, bringing heat to his skin and a tingle to his belly. This would help him make it through the next few hours with Pyrrha and still have enough strength and wherewithal to manage the rest of his day.
Nora's storytelling eventually devolves into a one-sided conversation with Ren, the Elemental looking sideways at the others as Pyrrha all but drags Jaune out of his chair towards the stairs. She watches them until they disappear into their room, the door shutting with force enough for the impact to echo through the house. She can't help but laugh a little to herself.
"They're kind of cute." she sighs, her cheek propped in her palm. "Don't you think?"
"I suppose." Ren nods, gathering his dishes to put in the sink. He wipes his hand on a towel and turns back to her. "Care to join me for a run?" And he doesn't mean the kind humans take to the sidewalk for, he means pulling aside his human disguise and bounding through the forest while the dew is still on the leaves.
The corner of her mouth twists, thinking. "Do I have to keep my clothes on?"
One sable brow lifts. "...No?"
"Then count me in." her smile is wide and toothy. "I was thinking about taking a nap, but I doubt it'll be quiet enough for that for a while." Now that she thinks about it, she quickly gulps down the last few bites, not of the mind to hear any of the racket that is bound to start coming from upstairs.
Jaune barely manages to push the door closed before Pyrrha shoves him against it, her chest lining up with his as her hands frame his face and hold him still. He allows her to kiss him for a moment, a small part of his mind policing the little details in the heated force of her lips to his to make sure he's ready to withdraw when she gets too eager. Once he feels the catching edge of one fang he grabs her wrists, pulling with no more force than is necessary to loose her grip. She's panting, eyes closed and chin tucked, her cheeks steadily reddening. His own quick breaths push through flared nostrils, her scent filling his head and working his heart into a faster cadence.
"Touch me," she rasps, trying to pull him to her again.
As much as he wants to, there are other things he needs to see to first. "Bed."
A growl rumbles out of her chest and vibrates through him and he catches the ivory gleam of her teeth in the light. He feels her fingers tighten against the sides of his neck, the tips of claws threatening at his hairline.
"Bed." he says again, firmer, carefully pulling on her arms until he can see both hands in front of him. Jaune straightens and encourages her to turn around, giving a little push with his palm to the swell of her butt to get her walking.
Staying close behind he stops her with both hands on her hips when she reaches the bed, her hips tucking against his. She laughs softly, turning to look over her shoulder. Jaune lines up their bodies again, his chest against her shoulders, leaning forward until she has to put her weight on her hands atop the bed. His arms cinch around her waist as he presses light kisses to the bend of her back, to the slope at the top of her shoulder.
"I like that." she sighs.
"I know." he smiles against her skin, feeling the bristle of goosebumps beneath his lips. He likes the way she shivers when his hands splay across the tops of her thighs, inching higher and higher until they start pulling up her shirt. He doesn't argue when she straightens and pulls the garment over her head and tosses it aside. He knows she needs this badly, has to have it if she wants to sleep and spare herself a hard night. But Jaune keeps her turned away from him, taking a moment to admire the fine musculature along her spine to the dimples at the small of her back.
Jaune moves to his nightstand, picking up a few of the items there, mentally flinching at the too familiar chime of metal rings, though these are decidedly smaller than the ones in the basement. When he comes to stand behind her again she is already waiting, having pulled her long red hair to the side. This collar is lighter than the other, though equally strong and made of thick leather with a padded fleece lining, a metal ring situated at the back. The parachute clip comes together in the back with a loud snap, her reflexive flinch at the sound making him briefly anxious. When she inches her arms back a little, upper arms lifted, he continues without delay. Jaune had designed this one himself; half cuffs of padded leather with an outward situated ring fit over each bicep and a heavy nylon strap connects them across her back, tension forming from the natural pull of her arms trying for their natural position. He tightens the strap just a little, making sure her arms are snug to her sides without trying to force them behind her. Now he turns her to face him, finding an encouraging and comfortable smile as her eyes meet his. She presents her wrists, her smile growing as he puts the last of the restraints in place.
Jaune snatches her up behind her knees and braces her back, lifting her up and carefully, lovingly, placing her on the bed. He makes sure she's comfortable -receiving an assuring nod and a breathy giggle- before crossing her arms beneath her breasts and fixing the clasps on the cuffs around her wrists the to metal rings at her biceps. His meticulous preparations are complete when he fishes a stretch of metal links from beneath the pillows to fix to the back of her collar, anchoring her to the bed frame.
Pyrrha finds no arousal in being bound, never has, but it certainly doesn't take away from her pleasure. The snug leather makes her feel secure, strangely comforted. It's a sensation that reassures her that Jaune is safe from her less controllable urges, from accidentally being scratched or bitten. The confidence lets her relax, and that allows her to better enjoy intimacy with him. Never mind how she loves to marvel at the focused devotion in his eyes as he prepares her for bed.
"I love you."
Jaune smiles again, breaking the too serious knit of his features. "Love you too. Are you okay?"
"Fine. Now would you touch me please?"
He laughs, his heated breaths ghosting across her stomach as he bends over her. He kisses above her navel, grinning at the flutter of the tight muscles there.
Jaune's heart is pounding now, his ribs jumping with each quick and heavy pulse. His instincts are screaming through his head, demanding indulgences he simply can't take. He wants to push between her legs and bring her to a wild climax with his lips and tongue, but a rumor of the condition being passed through such intimate touch during the full moon kept him from doing so. The last thing he wants is for Pyrrha to worry about possibly infecting him, to take away from what little pleasure she gleans from all this. He wants to so badly, and he knows by the way she licks her lips and meets his eyes that she wants him to.
Once the full moon passes. He tells himself. Then he would give her everything he couldn't give her now.
Jaune fixes his focus on the other article of clothing she wears, working the button of her shorts open with one practiced twist of his fingers. He's strong enough to lift her hips and pull them down, dropping them to the floor without bothering to look where they land. Not too quickly he pulls his own shirt over his head, catching her eyes once he's free of it and feeling his own need swell at the desire he finds in her gaze. He pushes out of his jeans and climbs onto the bed, stretching over to reach for one last thing on his nightstand.
Pyrrha shivers with delight as he settles between her legs and lets his body rest over hers for the moment, his hot erection laying atop her stomach. Her skin buzzes, sensation toeing that thin high wire between pleasure and pain, the pull of the full moon making her hypersensitive. Her blood sings at the warmth of his presence, her head swims at his scent. She wants to devour him in every sense of the word and he's only inches away. She can almost taste him as her tongue pulls across her fangs. Bright green eyes track his hand as he wets his fingers with his tongue, the pitch pupils dilating as his hand eases between her thighs.
"Yes," she gasps, her body jumping at the initial contact of the pads of his fingers against her clit. A velvety growl rumbles through her, her jaw clenching and lips flaring to reveal her fangs as his touch works in small, steady circles. Her clawed fingers flex against her palms, red furrows welling up under the pressure.
She's wet and hot and wanting, just as Jaune expects. He dips his head and smiles against her chest before planting butterfly kisses between her breasts. He leaves a little mark on her sternum, chuckling at her surprised squeak in response to the sharp sensation. Jaune kisses the inner swell of her breast, dragging his lips across her skin to take the firm nipple between them. His tongue swirls once, twice around the tender peak before he closes his mouth around it with a light press of his teeth, his fingers sinking into her aching core at the same time. Pyrrha jerks beneath him, a snap of metal against the headboard as the chain pulls tight.
"Deeper," she pleads, her head pressing back into the pillow.
Jaune acknowledges the demand with a curt hum, the minor vibration enough to make her shudder again. His initial penetration is testing, searching, making sure she's able to take a little more effort. His ring finger joins the middle inside of her and they curl upward as he pushes to the knuckle. Pyrrha's hips buck, her entire body tries to curl against the restraints and his weight. Jaune registers the dull groan of straining leather as his hand works into a rhythm, he can already feel her core fluttering around his fingers.
Likely the only upside to making love on the full moon: it is so easy to bring Pyrrha to the brink and nudge her over.
Pyrrha's first climax is quick and shattering, her hips lifting completely off the bed. Before she even comes all the way down from it she's begging for another. She'll succumb twice more, taking a moment to recover as the last one is particularly intense. She's still for a moment, panting and smiling, a stray bead of sweat rolling from her temple. "Could...c-could you push the hair out of my face, please?"
Jaune nods without a second thought, though he reaches carefully with his free hand so he doesn't trigger a reactionary snap of her jaws by moving too quickly. He's wary when she tips her chin up, his palm close enough for her lips to reach. Pyrrha looks back at him, almost daring him to let her with the restrained viciousness of her gaze and a smirk. A part of him wants to chance it. Gingerly he pushes the stray curls of hair from her forehead and cheeks with the tip of his finger, her eyes tracking his movement not lost on him. Pyrrha lifts her head and puts a quick kiss to his palm, giggling when he reflexively pulls back his hand.
"Hey," he almost scolds. "Your rules, not mine."
She feigns innocence, batting her lashes, a hard sell with fangs like hers.
Jaune can't help but to smile a little himself. "Are all your kind this cheeky?"
"They're worse." she chuckles. "Now I want you inside me."
He blushes, not meaning to as her words catch him by surprise. "Are you still okay? Still comfortable?"
She only nods, her bottom lip between her teeth, anxious. Pyrrha watches him, hungry, as he sits on the balls of his feet, his erection proudly standing up from between his thighs. He finds the small plastic package from the nightstand just beside him on the bed, palming it before tearing it open. With a little groan and a knit of his brow he rolls the condom into place, tossing the package towards the small basket by his nightstand. He misses but doesn't care. He feels the vibration of another chesty growl as he grabs her thighs, one in each hand, and props them atop his own, her knees hooking over his hips when he inches closer.
Jaune loves the way her mouth drops open and her eyes roll back when he enters her. The comfortable rumble of a purr ripples across his skin when he leans over her, stomach to stomach. Her ankles lock together over the small of his back, burying him to the hilt and pushing a deep grunt out of him. It's only now that he feels it, feels Pyrrha's feral desires coursing through him with a spike of adrenaline in his blood. Feeling her heat, hearing her whimper his name, the smell of her, spurs his own dormant instincts like a fan to the flames. It's the closest he can come to understand the pull of the full moon on her, to comprehend her desperation to be with him. As he takes in the incredible image of her bound and willing beneath him, he can only form one coherent thought. A word: mate. Both a title and a demand. Jaune starts with easy, steady thrusts, his hands framing her hips.
But it doesn't stay easy or steady, it never does. The bed frame bangs against the wall, chipping the paint and varnish on the wood. Leather groans and chains snap loudly with tension. Too many times Jaune is tempted to cut her loose, something in him dying to feel her hands and claws all over him, her fangs at his throat. God, what would it be like to just...let go? How would it feel to take everything she wanted to give, now when she is at her most ravenous?
How would it feel to be like her?
Jaune loses the thought along with all focus entirely when he comes with one hard grunt, his hips making a punctuated thrust into hers. His body shudders with staggering gasps for air, his frame rattled with tiny tremors. After a moment, his recovery partial, he's only mildly surprised to find himself still hard. Somehow their bond had a habit of offering him a second wind. Not that he -or Pyrrha- is complaining. He tidies himself up, putting on a new condom, and proceeds to roll her on her side and to take her from behind, loving the feel of his body flush against hers. He kisses her shoulders and neck around the collar, scraping with his teeth and receiving a delighted snarl in return. Jaune fills himself on the scent of her hair, and takes the risk of letting their fingers lace together as he pushes inside her again.
They'll climax together in the end. Jaune can sense her heat dissipating with the small shudders he can feel around his cock. But he doesn't try to loosen her restraints yet. He kisses up and down her back, smooths his slick palms down her ribs and hip and thigh, soothing her through the remnants of her feverish hunger. He tucks his mouth against her neck.
"Better now?"
"Mmm." the response is more of a purr coupled with a lazy growl. She really does feel good, but Pyrrha's having a hard time forming words, her tongue feeling as heavy as her body. Sleep is coming fast and she's more than ready for it to take her down.
"Give me a minute."
Pyrrha only nods. She's patient.
Jaune cleans himself up again but refrains from putting his clothes back on. He quickly returns to the bed and starts undoing the clasps and buckles, starting with the collar, the parachute clip coming apart in congress with her comfortable exhale. He sets the restraints on his nightstand piece by piece, and then wraps her up in his arms beneath the blankets once she's free of it all.
She nuzzles his shoulder. "Kiss me, please." And she lifts her chin, waiting for but a second before he lowers his lips to hers. It's safer now that she's sated. Now that she doesn't have a knee-jerk urge to bite. She smiles against his mouth, parting her lips in request for his tongue, sucking on it when he responds. She likes the little groan that works between them, the vibration giving her fresh goosebumps. When they part she leans into him, settling against his chest and listening in passing to his heartbeat.
"How long before you have to leave for work?"
"I've still got an hour or two. Sleep."
A little hum. "I love you."
"Love you too." and he kisses the top of her head.
Ren and Nora will return home that night just in time for dinner. Jaune got a couple of pizzas since he was late getting off of work. That and he wanted more time with Pyrrha while she was awake before she had to go back in the cage for the night. The Kirin secretly watches them, always interested and quietly entertained by the way humans behave. He loves to watch Jaune treat Pyrrha as if she is his own kind, like there is nothing between them but love and trust as they talk and laugh together and dance to the radio in the living room. Ren admires the concerned focus that comes over the human as the hours tick closer and closer to midnight and his gentle reminders of the time to the woman he so obviously adores. He smiles at how it doesn't faze Jaune when they're a few minutes late heading down to the basement.
What he doesn't love is the feeling that comes over him when he sees Jaune at the top of the basement stairs nearly an hour later, stock still from the moment his eyes are on him. Ren is briefly curious, wondering why he lingers, and why he looks so suddenly...sick? And he certainly doesn't love the realization of the bright red smear at the corner of Jaune's mouth coupled with a small welt, or the way the human looks back at him, pale, his blue eyes full of shock.
Author's Note: Just wrote this for fun after watching a favorite movie of mine. I know it's not my best, but I mostly did it to get it out of my head and make room between chapters of Embers of Autumn. In any case, long live Arkos and I hope you enjoyed.