Inspired by a line of dialogue from episode 1x13 - Fated to Pretend. I'm afraid I couldn't get this idea out of my head after hearing that line from Mick and I had to fic it - thus prompting only my third foray into ye writing of smut! I dodn't usually write this kind of thing and I'm entirely sure about it but it forced me to write it so here it is! Any feedback gratefully received...
"I'm 58 years older than her, okay? I sleep in a freezer, I drink blood I buy from the morgue and I have this tendency to bite down when I..."
Oh god. Oh god.
Warmth and skin and lips and breath and soft, silky hair.
She was pressed up against him, her body moulding itself to his, her lips soft against his, her breath warm in his mouth, and she felt so good and it had been so long, so very, very long and they really should talk about this, he should warn her… but she was sucking gently on his lower lip and he was rapidly losing his ability to construct a coherent thought.
She pulled her mouth from his, laying soft kisses along the line of his jaw and his head tilted involuntarily, wantonly offering her access, a moan shuddering on his lips. "Beth…"
He felt her smile against his lips as she pulled his head back down into a deep, drowning kiss. Oh god. He was drowning. Drowning in her. In her taste, her scent, her touch. She tasted incredible; warmth and sweetness and life.
He couldn't even remember how they'd come to this, who'd made the first move. It seemed like one minute they'd been stood in his apartment, simply talking, and then they were kissing, he wrapping his arms around Beth, she pressing into him, making him stumble backwards until he backed up against the wall.
He curled his fingers in her hair, holding her mouth to his, stealing her breath in deep, desperate kisses. She was intoxicating. He could smell the warmth of her skin, hear the blood rushing in her veins. That thought sent a cold shiver through him, bringing him back to his senses a little; he pulled his head back, shuddering at her sigh of disappointment as his lips left hers.
"Beth…"
Her lips were swollen from his kisses, her eyes dark with desire. She tried to follow his mouth with hers, pressing herself closer against him as she stretched up. He turned his head away, gasping for control.
"Beth…"
Unable to reach his lips, she turned her attention to his neck, mouthing kisses along the length of his throat, and Mick's head spun, desire pooling low in his stomach. He tried one last time to be sensible.
"Beth," he moaned. "We need to…"
A finger across his lips brought his words to a halt. He looked down at her and she was beautiful, her face flushed, her hair in disarray, her eyes wide and serious, accepting… and aware. She smiled. "No, Mick," she told him softly. "No more excuses."
He couldn't resist as she pulled his head down to kiss him softly, so tenderly. "I know what you are, Mick," she murmured against his lips. "And I know what it means. And I don't care."
She deepened the kiss, licking her way into his mouth, tasting him as he was tasting her, and the last of his resistance crumbled. His arms tightened around her, holding her close as he took control of the kiss, bending her backwards to plunder her mouth. She moaned as he pressed her to him, acutely aware of every inch of her body touching his, the warmth of her radiating through the thin layers of clothing between them. His hand rested at the small of her back and her shirt had ridden up a little, smooth skin soft and warm under his palm. She squirmed against him, worming a hand between them to splay against his chest, and he groaned against her lips, the motion eroding his control.
She tasted of warmth and sunlight and desire and he wanted her so badly it hurt.
He pulled his lips from hers, wanting to touch, to taste, more of her. Her hand clutched at his chest as he pressed soft kisses along the length of her neck. Her skin was smooth and soft, her scent a heady mix of light fragrance and natural sweat, the tang of metal from her necklace, the dry ozone smell of office and computer; a fragrance that was uniquely Beth. He could feel the rush of blood just under the smooth, unmarked skin, making his heart race, sending a frisson of anticipation through him. He shivered.
"Mick." Her voice was low, heavy with desire. She pulled his lips back up to hers and then her hands were moving, skimming lightly down his sides, finding the hem of his t-shirt and pushing under it, her touch at once gentle and demanding as she slid her hands up his chest, skin against skin. She brushed a thumb across his nipple and he shuddered, forgetting for a moment that he was supposed to be breathing.
She smiled against his lips and he found himself grinning in return as he let his hand slide up under her shirt, fingertips tracing lightly across her skin, drawing a sigh from her. He swallowed the breathy sound, capturing it from her lips and relishing it. He sucked lightly on her lower lip as his hand stroked up her spine. Her hips were pressed to his, her breasts brushing his chest. His exploring fingers found her bra strap and deftly unhooked it. Beth gave a sound that was half surprise, half wicked giggle, and bit gently at his lip. His hand at the nape of her neck held her to him as he kissed her hungrily, their lips moving, tongues touching and tasting each other.
As they kissed, he let his hand drift down over her shoulder, silken curls brushing against his skin, and down her back to rest on her hip, the lightest of pressure pushing her closer against him. The evidence of his desire for her was unmistakable; he was hard, aching with need, and the pressure of her body against him was a delicious torment.
Her hands were moving across his chest, exploring, tracing out muscle and bone, now brushing delicately across his skin, now stopping to drag a thumb across his nipple. He groaned helplessly, pleasure rippling through him. He moved his hand from her back, smoothing across soft skin and curved ribs, brushing gently against the underside of her breast before slipping up under the fabric of her bra to cup her firmly, brushing a thumb across her nipple. She shuddered against him, gasping her pleasure into his mouth.
He could hear her heart rate increase as he touched her; it was bewitching, the primal beat of her body's response to him. He was almost growling as he kissed her urgently. And then she was pulling away and he murmured an instinctive protest, opening his eyes to find her dishevelled and glorious, a secret smile playing on her lips. It took him a moment to realise what she was doing as she leaned back, her hands sliding up his chest.
He grinned a little foolishly as she tugged impatiently at his t-shirt and he lifted his arms, allowing her to pull the t-shirt off over his head. She threw it aside and he neither knew nor cared where it landed. He pulled her close again, his arms cradling her against him, his lips seeking hers. She wrapped an arm around his neck, holding them together, her fingers running through the hair at the nape of his neck.
He let his hands roam, skimming up her back and down to her hips, cupping her against him, brushing against her breasts through the thin fabric of her shirt, savouring each gasp and moan his touch elicited. Her fingers clenched in his hair, pulling him down to her, and he brushed a hand down the delicate column of her throat, slipping inside her shirt to tease a hardened nipple, before popping open the top button. She let herself lean back into his arms, her head tilting back enticingly, trustingly, as he kissed his way down her throat, pausing to lick delicately at the hollow of her collarbone. The taste of her skin was like sweet honey, warm and delicately spiced. He opened another button, bending forward to lay kisses down her breastbone.
She was almost limp in his arms, leaning back over his arm to allow him access as he opened her shirt one button at a time, and parted the fabric to press his lips to her heated skin. She giggled, a throaty laugh as he opened the last button and bent to place a delicate kiss on her belly button. Her eyes met his as he pulled her upright, both of them smiling, and he saw nothing but trust and acceptance… and desire… in her gaze. With a quirk of his lips, he slid the shirt from one shoulder, bending forward to kiss and lick the skin it revealed. He was acutely aware of her breathing, the way it hitched when he found a sensitive spot, the way it sped up when he sucked lightly at her skin. Her pulse was racing, blood thrumming in her veins, her chest rising and falling with each breath, breasts spilling from the lacy cups of her unfastened bra.
He ran a finger under the lacy strap of her bra and slid that too down off her shoulder, following its progress with lips and tongue. With a shuddering breath she shook her arm, slipping it out of the shirt sleeve, and let him gently slide the strap down over her elbow, lifting her arm to let it slip over her wrist and hand. Her bra fell away, exposing proud, beautiful breasts, full and rounded, the nipples tight with arousal. She was exquisite.
Her eyes fluttered closed, her lips parting, as he trailed his fingers slowly up her arm, smoothing along the length of her collarbone and dancing down her breastbone to circle teasingly, just barely brushing the milky smooth skin of her breast. "Mick," she sighed, her voice low with frustrated need, and he grinned, moving to cup the firm weight of her, brushing a thumb lightly over her nipple. She shivered and he pulled her close to him, feeling her breasts press against his chest, skin to skin, as he kissed her hungrily. She met his hunger with her own, her tongue tangling with his as he allowed his hands to roam up and down the smooth skin of her back, palms skimming over the line of her spine, the curve of her ribs, marvelling at the feel of her.
Her arms were wrapped around his neck, holding him close, fingers tangling in his hair. She felt incredible but he wanted more; more of her skin, more of her scent. He wanted to feel every inch of her pressed against him, bare skin on bare skin, wanted to explore her with his hands, his lips, his tongue. Their lips met, parted and met again as she ran a hand down his back, dragging her fingers over sensitised flesh. She shifted sensually, one leg slipping between his to press firmly against him. He moaned at the contact, the fabric of his jeans tight against his erection. Oh god. He wanted her so much.
The thought of where this was rapidly leading made him break their kiss, the two of them breathing heavily, their hands still moving and touching, sliding over naked skin.
"Mick?" she breathed questioningly, a frown on her face, wondering why he had pulled back. He stroked a firm hand up the curve of her hip, curling it around her breast, watching in fascination as her nipple hardened as his thumb drew circles around it. Her moan was low, breathless, as she leaned into his touch, her anxiety forgotten.
He bent to nuzzle at her neck, his fingers still caressing her breast, teasing her with light touches. "We have a problem," he breathed into her ear.
She sucked in a breath as his thumb dragged across her nipple, her head tilting to allow him greater access to the delicate skin of her neck. "What kind of problem?" she murmured distractedly.
He placed one last kiss at the sensitive spot where neck met jaw and lifted his head to offer her a rueful smile. "I don't have a bed," he admitted apologetically.
Beth's answering smile was nothing short of wicked. She leaned into him, breathing out deliberately, a delicious flutter of warm air across his ear, as she whispered slyly, "I don't care." She sucked his earlobe into her mouth, her teeth grazing lightly, and he jerked, desire flooding through him in a rush that was almost physical.
With a low growl, he wrapped his arms around her and lifted, spinning them around to pin her up against the wall, her legs coiling instinctively around his waist. With his vampire strength, her weight was negligible and he held her easily in place as he gave into desire and bent his head to swirl his tongue around a proud nipple. He felt her shudder and as he closed his mouth around the sensitive nub, she moaned, high and breathless, her hands running through his hair, tangling in the curls at the nape of his neck, holding him in place as he suckled lightly.
She tasted incredible; her skin warm and flushed, the suction of his mouth increasing blood flow. He loved how she reacted to his touch, the way she sighed and squirmed, murmuring his name, as he kissed and licked and bit gently at each nipple. Each moan, each shiver of pleasure, sent a flush of desire through him, building the tension, making him yearn for release. He ground his hips against her, pressing against her, articulating his need, his want. She breathed his name, her legs tightening around his waist, pulling him into her, and he shuddered, grazing his teeth lightly across her flesh.
Her hand tugged at his hair, pulling his head back, lifting his face to meet hers as she kissed him hungrily, breathlessly. Her hands were roaming across his back, nails dragging tantalisingly over his skin. Her hair was wild and loose, falling across her face, brushing against his chest and shoulders. She broke their kiss, tipping her head back in pleasure as he leaned into her, pressing his hardness against her, his hand cupping and stroking her breast.
"Mick…" She groaned his name urgently as he nuzzled at her throat.
"I want you," he told her roughly, mumbling the words against her skin.
She shivered, a hand clenching in his hair. "Yes," she sighed. "Yes."
Sliding an arm around her back, he stepped back from the wall, carrying her easily. She wrapped herself around him, legs around his waist, an arm around his shoulders, her body clinging to his. His face still pressed against her neck, he found his way by instinct alone, all his attention focused on the irresistible taste and scent of her skin as he carried her through into the study area.
He set her gently on the table block near the fireplace, leaning forward to lay her down on the smooth wooden surface. She went willingly, her arms around his neck pulling him down with her, forcing him lean over her, his weight pressing her down onto the table. Her legs were still wrapped around his waist, holding him close to her.
He kissed his way up her neck, sucking lightly at her skin, to graze his teeth over her ear lobe. She sighed, angling her neck to allow him access. The sight of her like this, wanton and sensual in his arms, drunk on desire, offering herself freely to him, was enough to make the hunger in him flare, mingling with his lust, and he felt the change starting to overtake him, his teeth starting to lengthen. His ears were filled with the rushing beat of her blood, her pulse pounding beneath the fragile skin of her neck, calling to him.
With a groan he pulled back, lifting himself off her, getting his feet back on the ground, literally and figuratively, as he struggled to control himself.
"Mick?" She was all wild hair and creamy skin as she sat up, looking up at him in confusion. He was captivated by her, unable to move away as she reached out for him, hooking her fingers into the waist of his jeans to pull him closer. The love he felt for her was physical, a hollow ache in the pit of his stomach, a tightness in his chest that stole his breath. He was helpless to resist as she slid a hand up his chest to curl around his neck and pull his lips down to hers. Their kiss was soft, gentle, tasting each other slowly, more about connecting than about desire. He felt as though every ounce of the emotion they felt for each other was poured into that kiss, hunger and need transformed into something fragile and wondrous. He sighed as they broke apart, leaning his forehead against hers, the two of them taking a moment to just breathe.
She stroked his back gently, smoothing over his skin in absent circles, and the touch was soothing, sensual. The blood hunger had faded, his control back in place, and when she slid a hand down to cup him through his jeans, he tensed and groaned, desire pooling hot and fierce in his stomach. They leaned into each other again, seeking out each other's touch, their kisses harder now, more demanding, edged with need. Her fingers tugged at the button fly, freeing first one button then two, and he shuddered as she stroked him through the rough fabric.
She leaned back, drawing him with her, and he went willingly, laying her back on the table. She was stunning, her hair spread out in a golden halo around her head, her skin pale and smooth, her eyes locked on his, shining with the emotion she felt for him… and a trusting openness that made his heart ache.
He kissed her long and slow, almost reverently, savouring her taste. His hands roamed across her skin, stroking and teasing, sliding up the length of her arms and down her sides, brushing over her breasts, teasing along the waist of her pants. He wanted to lose himself in her, to touch and taste every inch of her. She squirmed under him, her eyes closed, lost in sensation, and the movement did nothing for his self-control. He let his teeth drag across her lower lip as he gently, regretfully, leaned back. He was breathing heavily as he stood at the foot of the table, gazing in disbelief at the incredible woman laid out before him, waiting for him, wanting him.
He bent to press a kiss to her stomach as his fingers slowly unzipped her pants. She gazed up at him with a unselfconscious smile as he straightened, lifting her hips to allow him to draw the pants down over her thighs, revealing the smooth skin of her stomach, the long line of her legs. He threw the pants carelessly aside and she grinned up at him, drawing an answering smile to his face as he slid his hands lightly up the length of her legs, from ankle to hip. He slipped his hands under her thighs and pulled her smoothly towards him, her yelp of surprise dissolving into a throaty laugh as she wrapped her legs around him, pressing his thighs against the table edge, pulling him into her. He leaned over her, pressing against her, and she writhed deliciously, rubbing against him in a motion that made him bite his lip at the pleasurable pressure.
"Mick…" Her eyes were heavy-lidded, dark with desire, her lips swollen from his kisses. "I want you," she murmured, echoing his own words. "Please…"
Breathless with need, he pulled back enough to unbutton his jeans and step out of them, kicking them aside. His eyes never left hers as he stroked lightly along the edge of her panties, teasing her with a delicate touch, his fingers slipping just under the edge of the lace, before hooking around the fabric and gently, slowly, sliding them down, his hands smoothing the length of her legs to drop the lacy garment on the floor. For a moment he was mesmerised, gazing down at her, lost in the wonder of her pale skin, her delicate curves, the glint of desire in her eyes; desire for him. She held out a hand and he took it, his eyes never leaving hers as she pulled him to her.
He bent over her, pressing his body to hers, and she wrapped her arms around his neck to pull him closer, kissing him with a fervour that was intoxicating. He met her urgency with his own, tasting and touching her, his hands roaming, stroking and caressing every inch of her. They were tangled together, wrapped around each other, arms and legs tightening around each other as though they couldn't get close enough. The sensation of her under him, skin against skin, was almost more than he could stand. His erection was pressed between them, her every shift and sigh pressing him against her, brushing against sensitive skin in a delightful, aching friction.
"Please, Mick…" she breathed huskily into his mouth, her lips never leaving his. He groaned, his need for her a tangible ache. With a final kiss, he parted from her regretfully; his hands on her hips, he pulled back a little, angling himself carefully, and pushed slowly forward.
She moaned as he slid into her, her body tensing around him as she shuddered. Oh god. She was hot and tight and wet around him and the sensation was almost too much, coming close to undoing him. He stilled, taking a moment to catch his breath, to regain his control. She slid her legs around him, holding him to her, urging him forward, and he laughed shakily. "This is gonna be over real quick if you keep doing that," he told her breathlessly.
She grinned up at him, a wicked glint in her eye. "Where's that famous vampire stamina and control?" she teased huskily.
He pushed forward, seating himself deeply, and pleasure rippled through him, making him bite his lip. Beth tensed, her back arching, a sigh on her lips. He bent over her, pressing them closer together, making both of them moan, and kissed her softly. "Even vampires have limits," he murmured with a smile.
She tangled her fingers in his hair, deepening their kiss, and began to move under him, urging him into a rhythm, tightening her legs around him. She felt incredible, her skin sliding against his, her body writhing under him. Each shaky breath was tinged with her scent, his ears pounded with the rush of her pulse; he was losing himself in sensation, in the smell and feel and touch and pleasure of her.
He broke away from their kiss, bracing himself on trembling arms as he thrust into her, each push and pull heightening the pleasure, building a tension in him until he thought he would snap. She shuddered and sighed, her fingers curling on his shoulders, nails scraping his skin, and he bowed his head, struggling to hold onto control.
When he looked up, her eyes were closed, her head thrown to the side, her lip caught between her teeth as she tensed and rocked, seeking elusive release. The smooth skin of her neck was like a siren song of temptation, the muscles corded with tension, her blood thrumming and singing just below the surface, calling to him. He groaned desperately, feeling the hunger rise in him, fighting to suppress it. Pleasure was eroding his control, desire mingling with the hunger, heightening his need, building the tension until it was unbearable. She twisted under him, crying out, tilting her head almost invitingly and he felt the change come over him, his fangs lengthening, his eyes morphing.
Oh god. He couldn't do this. He shouldn't do this. But he couldn't stop; the tension was unbearable, demanding release. He sped up his pace and she moved with him, shuddering under him. He bowed his head, tried to focus only on the pleasure and the incredible sensation of her, to ignore the hunger and the scent of the blood in her veins. He groaned as he thrust into her, struggling to hang onto control.
"Mick…" she moaned his name and he nearly broke then, nearly lost himself.
"Mick." Her hand stroked his face, cupped his chin, pulling him up to look at her. She was beautiful, flushed and breathless, her eyes dark with pleasure. He'd never wanted anything as badly as he wanted her; wanted to spill his release into her, to sink his teeth into her, to hear her cry out in ecstasy as he at once filled her and drank from her. She should have shrank from him, seeing him like this, his eyes whited out, his fangs extended, even as he thrust in and out of her, pushing them both to the brink.
But she didn't. There was no fear in her eyes, no revulsion. Only acceptance… and love. "Please," she murmured, echoing her plea from before, and turned her head deliberately to the side. There was no mistaking her meaning; she was offering him what he craved, what he needed. She would let him bite, let him feed. He moaned desperately, both temped and terrified by her offer.
The vampire's bite was a double-edged sword; a fine mix of pleasure and pain, causing an endorphin rush that some people found almost addictive, hence the constant availability of willing freshies. But this was no knowing freshie, offering herself willingly, attracted to the vampire's allure. This was Beth, his Beth, and though she might offer herself, though she might think she knew what being with a vampire meant, she'd never really… he'd never really…
He'd bitten her once, tasted the sweet liquor of her blood. In a squalid bathroom, weak and hungry, near death, he'd plunged his fangs into her arm and drunk hungrily. There'd been no seduction, no glamour or allure; it had been about need, pure and simple, and survival. He'd been only vaguely aware of her shuddering against him as he suckled at her flesh, her body reacting to the shock, to the pain… and to the unexpected pleasure.
But this… this was different. This was about pleasure and tension and release and he…oh god. He was close, so close, and Beth was moaning and shuddering under him and he couldn't hold onto control; she'd offered herself and he couldn't stop what would happen, he couldn't hold back.
He pressed himself to her, her breasts pushing against his chest, their bodies rocking in perfect rhythm, and tucked his face against her shoulder, breathing in a shuddering breath. He could smell her skin, her sweat, her lust, her blood; its pulse, its rhythm, was deafening, pounding under the thin, fragile surface of her skin. He pressed his lips to her neck, sucking lightly, running his tongue along the vein that thrummed under the skin. She gasped, her body tightening around him and he cried out helplessly, feeling the tension in him break and spill, his control break. It was instinctive, a reflexive response that made him bite down, his fangs piercing skin and flesh, the hot, sweet tang of her blood spilling into his mouth, thick and rich with endorphins, even as he thrust into her one last time, shuddering and groaning against her neck as he spilled his release into her.
She cried out, a wail of shock and awe, her body spasming under him as pleasure ripped through her. He suckled gently, lost in the sensations running through his body, in the wild, glorious taste of her, and she trembled and shook with him, his feeding prolonging and intensifying her pleasure. He drank slowly, not wanting to take too much, his control quickly returning as he shuddered with release, the need, the fierce hunger, appeased. She was shaking in his arms as he gently, reluctantly, pulled his mouth from her neck, licking the last drops of blood from the two small punctures in her skin. They were sprawled across the table top, limbs and bodies tangled together. He lifted himself carefully, rolling to the side, pulling her with him to cradle her against his chest, his features morphing, fangs retracting, eyes darkening.
She let him hold her close, her breathing gradually calming, her heartbeat slowing to normal. He stroked his fingers through her hair, pleasure still tingling through his body, feeling her slowly relax against him. He felt a frisson of fear when she lifted her head to look at him, afraid that what he'd done had changed them irreparably, that he would see fear and revulsion in her eyes. But the gaze that met his was filled with wonder and trust and love. He couldn't help but smile, the ache in his chest easing, and she smiled back, warm and genuine, and pulled him into a kiss.
Fin.