After everything that happened yesterday, you'd think I'd be tired enough to sleep, I silently groused to myself.
It was almost 4am and I hadn't slept a wink yet, even though I'd been in bed nearly four hours. Quinn was asleep next to me; Hunter dozed peacefully in the spare room; Amelia and James hadn't yet returned from St. Louis; even Bill had given up prowling around the edge of my yard and headed home for the rest of the night... There were no waking minds to disturb me for miles, but still, I couldn't sleep.
Of all the things I had to worry about, you'd think the one that kept me awake at night would be the revelation that the pledge Eric tricked me into was a promise to let him turn me. Or my new status as guardian to my almost-five-year-old nephew. Or the fact that I very nearly died that night; out-witted by an opponent weaker, slower and less skilled than myself. But it wasn't any of those that kept me tossing and turning.
It was guilt.
I couldn't stop thinking of what happened between Eric and I, after he saved my life again that evening. Sure, I protested plenty... but that didn't change my reactions to him. Sure, the smarter part of my brain kept screaming that I was with Quinn now, that Eric was wrong for me, that I should do something to stop him... but I didn't. Some other part of me wanted to be there, wanted his hands and lips and fangs all over me, wanted him touching me that intimately again. I mean, it must've. I didn't teleport away like I could've, I stayed and let him do it. At the time, I told myself I had to give him blood or the police would find him there, but now I found my reasoning pathetic.
I rolled over to watch Quinn's chest rise and fall as he slept, hoping the sight of him might straighten out some of my tangled feelings. I studied his face, utterly relaxed as he slept next to me. The full lips, the smooth scalp, the slight indents where dimples form when he smiles... as I stared at him, the only word I could think was MINE. I let my eyes slide lower down his body to his bare chest, taking in the voluptuous bulges of muscle all over his arms and torso, the hard flat stomach, the delicious toasty color of his skin, even under the moonlight... I loved him, I was certain of that. He was mine, I was sure of that too. But was I his? I couldn't be certain, and that ate me up inside.
We hadn't made love that night after Pam left, and I was worried about that now. He didn't want to rush me into something I might not be ready for so soon after what happened with Eric, so he held back and let me make the first move... but I didn't. I wasn't sure what I wanted then, and I wasn't any more certain now, although I knew I would have to work it out soon. It had been twelve hours since we last made love, which was about as long as an imprinting couple could go without, and even as he slept, I felt a strong hum of lust in the back of his mind. I felt the same, and seeing that he was already half-hard in his sleep, it was all I could do not to roll on top of him immediately.
Stupid imprinting, I cursed silently, momentarily angry that yet another supernatural bond was interfering with my feelings.
As soon as I let myself think it, I knew I was wrong. These were my feelings, I realized. This wasn't like the blood bond; it wasn't something that started outside of me. I had always wanted love and commitment, had always hungered for what he offered me. But now I had it... it was so hard to let go of what else I had, too. Even if all I had was occasional sex with a vampire who fucks everyone but me, most days.
I tossed and turned some more, trying to figure out what I should do, and slowly Quinn's brain hummed back into alertness. I was facing away from him when his eyes finally opened, and the surge of lust I felt from him as he saw the curves of my body next to him almost undid me.
"Sookie?" he murmured, his voice thick with sleep. "What's wrong?"
I rolled over to face him, and when he saw the confusion, worry and guilt carved into my features, he immediately knew. He didn't bother saying anything, just pulled me to him, wrapping me in his arms and holding me.
"It doesn't matter," he whispered in my ear.
I pulled back to stare into his eyes, wondering what he meant by that.
"You're blood bonded to him, you're gonna feel something. As soon as it happened, I knew you'd never be free of him, that you could never be completely mine again. I've had a lot of time to think about that, and I can't say I like it, but I won't give you up just because he's got his fangs into some small part of you. If it's a choice between having most of you or none at all, I'll take most, and I'll be happy with that."
"Really?" I was blinking back tears as I said it.
He nodded, and I could feel the intensity of his gaze, even in the dark. "I love you. I won't lose you over this."
I pulled him towards me and he took my hint, kissing me softly. It was the sweetest, tenderest kiss he'd ever given me; a kiss that said he would forgive me anything. His mind was humming with love and desire, but my own was still full of guilt and shame. I wanted him, I loved him... but I didn't deserve him. It made no sense that he could kiss me so lovingly while I could still feel Eric's touch all over me. I hated myself for what I had done.
I pulled him with me as I rolled onto my back, letting him set the pace, so he could take what he wanted - what he deserved. His kisses became more passionate, and he shifted his weight to one arm so the other could caress up and down my side, stroking my skin the way I loved. It wasn't exciting me the way it usually did, though.
I could hear confused thoughts trying to take root in his mind, even as he let them go so he wouldn't annoy me with his mental chatter. First, he felt a niggling unease that something was different. Next, he started wondering if he was doing something wrong, because I wasn't responding with my usual enthusiasm. Then he realized it wasn't a matter of me not enjoying myself; I was being completely passive, letting him do whatever he wanted without expressing any of my own preferences. He didn't like that; he loved how sexual I usually was, and was dismayed to find that side of me suddenly under wraps, off limits to him.
He pulled back to stare at me in the moonlight, studying my face in the hope it said something different to what he knew it would. All he could see were hurt, anger, and shame. His only consolation was knowing he wasn't the one to make me feel that way, but he still hated seeing me like this. He knew I was trying to make this feel like an apology, trying to make up for my 'misdeeds' by letting him take anything he might want from me. He wasn't sure what to do about that; he was thinking he might be rushing me, that I might need more time. I didn't.
"Reclaim me?" I whispered shakily. "Make me yours again. Please?"
He heard what I said, but somehow also heard what I meant: that I wanted him to be forceful and possessive, to stake his claim over me in every way, so I was left in no doubt who I belonged to. I wanted him to take me back, to erase the feel of Eric's hands and mouth and fangs all over my body by leaving his own mark on me instead. I had never consciously tried to wipe away one lover's touch so I could re-commit to another before, had always let time do it for me, but I felt sure this would only work if he left an even deeper impression than Eric had.
But he shuddered at the thought of taking me the way Eric had, and I knew his answer before he said a word.
"Sookie, you're asking me to reclaim you on his terms," he told me gently, "and that just won't work. I know you're bonded to him, that you can't help wanting him sometimes... but whatever he does to you, however that excites you... I can't give you that..." He stopped speaking for a long moment, biting his tongue to keep his emotions in check. "All I have to offer is me, and what you're asking just isn't me. I'm sorry."
For a few seconds, I was certain he was turning me down, refusing to make love to me because Eric's touch was all over me and I couldn't work out any other way to wipe myself clean of it. My gut churned and tears welled up in my eyes, ready to spill over at any moment. But just before I could start crying, I was suddenly lying on my side with him spooned behind me, kissing that sensitive spot behind my ear as his hands caressed my whole body, gently stroking every inch of skin within his reach.
"What are you doing?" I asked, confused.
"Reclaiming my mate," he murmured in my ear. "Reminding you why you want to be mine."
It was nothing like I thought I needed, but pretty soon, it started to feel good. Really good. His touch was soothing and gentle, tender and sweet, his hands traveling my body as though it were the most beautiful place he'd ever been. He kept planting soft kisses on my neck and shoulder, occasionally moving to reach a different spot in a way that made his whole body shift against my back. I couldn't help but relax against him; the way he touched me made me feel so loved and valued that I melted in his arms. His mind buzzed with happiness whenever he was near me, and I could feel that he adored me, that I was special to him, that he wouldn't be satisfied until I was smiling again. A small grin worked its way across my features, and as he shifted against me next, my butt wriggled to tease him.
Mmmm, there's my girl, he thought happily, his way-too-sensitive nostrils detecting the very start of my arousal, just as I pressed back against him to feel how hard he was. His hands made one more trip over my body, the arm beneath me simply stroking the curve of my waist as his other hand slid up from my knee, pushing my nightgown just a little further up before he let it separate his hand from my skin, the thin fabric doing nothing to disguise the feel of his fingertips on my hip, then my ribcage, then the side of my breast... This time, instead of trailing up to my shoulder, then down my arm, they moved across my breast instead, narrowly missing my nipple as I moved my arm to give him access.
"Please," I hissed, my backside grinding against him involuntarily as his fingers teasingly kept going, gliding down my arm until they tangled with mine. I whimpered my disappointment at him holding my hand instead of touching my body, and as I did, his other hand stopped sliding back and forth over the curve of my waist, stroking my belly one last time before it crept up to my ribs, then the underside of my breast, before his thumb finally circled my nipple, just the way I wanted it to. I couldn't stifle a long, low moan as he did - not that I wanted to, of course.
That sound of raw animal passion stirred something in him, and for a split-second, hopeful thoughts ran through his head. He wanted to make me come right where we lay, just to remind me how good it felt when he touched me. Then he wanted to lick me, so he could taste every drop of pleasure he gave me. He hoped that by the time he was done I'd be begging him to fuck me, so he could slide deep inside me and drive me to one more peak, wanting me trembling around him as he filled me.
Then he was back in the moment, marveling at the softness of my breast in his hand, delighting in every little gasp and moan I made, going slowly mad as the movement of my ass against his boxer-clad cock made him throb more and more with the need to be buried inside me. I unlaced our fingers and let my hand wander all over him, quickly finding a high, firm buttock to dig my nails into, making him growl in my ear.
His hands were under my nightgown an instant later, hot and huge around my breasts, making me gasp and moan at his every touch. He knew just what I loved, and soon each hard nipple was gently squeezed between two of his fingers as his hands massaged me. I threw my head back in delight and his prickly feline tongue found my ear, kissing, licking, and breathing into it, pulling excited trembles from my body.
"God, you're beautiful," he murmured, tugging ever-so-softly at my nipples, making my moans louder and more desperate.
"I love you so, so much," he added a few moments later, rolling them between his fingers, twisting a little, and generally driving me wild with wanting him.
"Love you too," was all I managed to gasp as I moved my top leg back over his, hoping he'd touch me there. But he just kept playing with my breasts - which felt incredible, but would never make me come by itself. And the longer he did it, the more I needed to come.
"Please, John," I begged, knowing how much he loved hearing me ask for him.
I could feel happiness radiating off him as he wriggled back to make room, rolling me first onto my back, then my other side, so we lay facing one another. As soon as he could reach my lips he was kissing me, and this time, it was perfect. The sweet, tender way his lips melded with mine was so different from what happened the evening before, I couldn't help but feel I was with the right man. It wasn't until I felt him grinning against me that I realized I was making little 'mmmm' sounds, like someone enjoying the best meal of her life.
He pushed my nightgown up around my waist and slid his hands underneath it again, finding my nipples rock hard and practically begging for his touch. I pressed into his hands, needing him, urging him on, and he obliged me. He held each breast firmly as his thumbs flicked back and forth over the nipples, thrilled by the way his touch made me writhe and moan. MINE, he was thinking. My woman, my mate, my love.
"Yes, yours," I agreed, barely able to form words. "All yours. Take me, please, take me."
I threw my leg over his hip and ground against his cock, hungry for him to slide inside me and ride me to a screaming climax. Or three. He kissed me instead, his tongue exploring and probing, reminding me why I was his by letting his lips alone make me dizzy. Then he pressed against me, moving his hips until the very tip of him found my nub, pulling a long, desperate moan from me as I bucked against him.
He pressed and released, pressed and released rhythmically, his hips driving me crazy as his hands toyed with my aching nipples and his mouth kept mine fascinated with its every move. I could barely remember the first time we did this, so long ago in my late cousin's apartment as he helped me sort out her things, but it felt right that he would reenact our first time together, would relive that moment as he reclaimed me now. I kissed him back fervently, my hips moving with his, the friction of the fabric that separated our bodies making the sensations all the more intense.
He was watching my face, I knew that, his eyes open as he kissed me so he could see my every delighted grimace, loving the way my eyelids fluttered as my eyes rolled back in my head. I was so turned on I didn't feel at all self-conscious about that; it just felt natural that he wanted to see me like this, lost in the overwhelming pleasure of his touch. Seeing me so close spurred him on, and as he pressed harder, I could hear my moans turn to screams turn to whimpers of need. Then he did something else to my nipples, one of those intense things I loved when I was just about to come, and I was suddenly riding the crest of that wave, oh-so-ready to be pushed over the edge into oblivion.
Just before I got there he eased off, leaving me right on edge but not yet letting me peak. I could feel that he was drawing this out, that he knew it would be even better for me if he did, but I couldn't help my sobs of disappointment, my body arching and aching and needing him so, so much.
"Open your eyes?" he whispered hungrily. "Please, look at me while you come? Let me watch you?"
I did as he asked and found myself staring straight into huge purple eyes, eyes that starved for me, eyes that worshiped me. I nodded frantically to tell him I'd give him exactly what he wanted, just please, please, finish me off, right now, please. He saw the need in my eyes and kissed me sweetly, still looking at me, acknowledging my hunger even as he did nothing to ease it - yet.
A few moments later he was pressing against me again, resuming his earlier torment, but doing it gently now to give him more time. He pressed and released, pressed and released until I was panting and whimpering once more, never taking his eyes off mine. He saw my pleasure, and my desperation, and my adoration of him all play across my face as he slowly, slowly pushed me back to the edge.
"Tell me how this feels?" he begged. "Tell me what it's like for you? Tell me what you're thinking when you look at me that way?"
I could feel how much he needed it, and even though I was so excited I could barely form words, I did my best to tell him exactly how it felt as he pleasured me senseless. He never stopped pressing and releasing, and my insides were already trembling for him.
"Yours, all yours," I babbled incoherently. "Please, please, more, now, please, John, please."
He was pressing harder against me, excited by my words and the wild look in my eye, knowing how close I was, wondering how good it felt.
"Feels great, so great, need more, God, please, please, fuck me, now, please, John, please, fuck me, please, please."
He couldn't keep his lips off mine any longer and kissed me deep and hard, even as I kept babbling every word that came into my head.
"Love you, so much, need you, John, fuck me, please, please, take me, claim me, please, fuck me, all yours, please, please..."
Then I was there, shuddering and trembling as the pleasure took over, his fingers and cock driving me to a long, intense climax.
"Oh God, oh God," I screamed as my hips rocked against him, my whole body rigid.
Then I went limp in his arms, still murmuring "oh God... oh God" as I slowly came down from my high. He rocked me gently, pressing against me to trigger the gentle aftershocks he knew I loved so much, staring into my eyes the whole time.
"Mmmm, if that was half as good as it sounded..." he purred, gazing at me adoringly.
"Better," I lazily corrected, my lips forming a goofy grin as I snuggled against him.
"Perfect," he grinned, and I could feel how pleased with himself he was, just for making me feel so good.
We kissed again, and even though I felt wonderfully sated, I could also feel him rock-hard against me, and already I wanted more. I started wriggling against him, delighted by the feel of his cock, so engorged it had to almost hurt.
"Please, please fuck me," I repeated, hoping he'd do as I asked this time. "Please John, now. Please."
He just stared at me for a moment, knowing that if he dared move, he'd be inside me before he could think, taking me hard and fast, maybe too hard and too fast. I sat up and pulled my nightgown over my head, threw it across the room, then lay back down to push my underwear off my hips. As soon as I was done kicking them off, I guided his hand into me, letting him feel my readiness. A low growl rumbled around his chest and he gave me a look that was completely feral, close to losing control.
He rolled me on top of him, staring at me hopefully, wanting me to take over and ride him, to take pleasure from his body in the way he loved so much. I leaned over to kiss him, my limbs all floppy with satisfaction, trying to be as demanding as he wanted me to be. But I still wasn't there yet; I still wanted to acquiesce to him, to be taken forcefully, to feel his desire overtake me. I was just about to apologize when he lifted me a little further up his body and took a tender nipple in his mouth, rasping it with his prickly tongue. I gasped and started grinding against him, getting his meaning immediately: if I wasn't desperate enough to take over and ride him yet, he'd just keep teasing me until I was.
Then he had hold of both my breasts, pushing them together so he could suck both nipples at once, and it was all I could do to whimper and rub myself against him. He grinned up at me, pleased it took so little to get me riding him, even if I wasn't doing it quite the way he really wanted yet. He lapped at my nipples eagerly, loving the sounds of desperation I made as he excited me all over again, driving me wild once more. His tongue worked me slowly, knowing just how long to tease me before I was ready for more.
When my grinding reached a suitably fevered pace, he finally let go of my breasts, lazily nibbling on each in turn as his hands took hold of my hips and pushed me, urging me forward so he could taste me. I resisted at first, sure I didn't deserve the extravagant enjoyment he offered so freely, wondering why he was still so good to me after what happened the evening before. But he kept on urging my hips forward, and I soon realized there was no hint of charity in his thoughts. He wanted this almost as much as I did: he loved the way I tasted; he loved the intimacy of being allowed access to those parts of me, of having my permission to look and touch and taste and smell; and most of all, he loved the way I reacted, the sounds and movements that told him I was in heaven, and that final flood of juices that left him in no doubt he had satisfied me. I couldn't help but smile as I felt his anticipation of this, delighted that it was almost as good for him as it was for me.
But when I finally let him push me forward, finally placed myself above him and offered him complete access to me, he did something I didn't expect. He turned his face to the side, his hand stroking my thigh as he searched for something. I couldn't work out what he was doing, why he was making me wait, what he thought he would find... until his deft fingers located the pair of puncture marks, so high on my thigh. I froze then, mortified that I was offering myself to him like this when I still wore another man's mark. My body went utterly rigid as I awaited his censure, expecting him to push me away at any moment. But he didn't.
When his tongue found the tiny wounds, he started licking them gently, puzzling me. After a few confused seconds, I finally remembered that his shifter saliva had healing properties; that the marks would disappear far sooner with his help than they would without. He was erasing Eric's mark from my thigh, in exactly the same manner as he was erasing his touch from the rest of me: gently, tenderly, and extremely pleasurably. His tongue teased my inner thigh as he worked on the punctures, making me squirm as I tried in vain to make him touch me where I needed him most.
I was wriggling and whimpering by the time he was done, wanting him so much I couldn't stay still. Just as I despaired of him ever satisfying me, he was suddenly finished with my thigh and moved swiftly to my nub instead, expertly drawing it into his mouth. I just managed to stay upright, shuddering and trembling above him as he pleasured me as thoroughly and comprehensively as anyone ever had. He was incredibly good at this, making me tingle all over far faster than I knew I could. I 'heard' that he was doing this quickly because he throbbed painfully with his own need, desperate to be inside me, to watch me take all of him, to stare into my eyes as I devoured all he offered me.
He did everything he could to thrill and delight me, mouth and hands working my body so skillfully I felt sure I would pass out, just from the overwhelming sensations he was creating. I couldn't withstand his attentions for long, my body jerking this way and that as I cried out over and over, dripping wet and hungry for him. His fingers were inside me but it wasn't enough, could never be enough, not after I had tasted his width and his heat and his graceful, fluid movements.
When he started humming against me as well, the vibrations felt so fantastic I couldn't help grinding against him, my body milking his fingers as a fiery snake of pleasure made its way up my spine, searing ecstasy through my nerves as it went. I'd never felt anything like it, and didn't realize how loudly I was screaming until Hunter's mind came back to life across the hall, woken by my shrieks of delight. Thankfully he knew about 'good screaming' already, and once his mind brushed mine and found me feeling great, he went right back to sleep, unconcerned.
I turned to jell-o as my climax finally finished, falling in a heap beside my tiger, my eyes closed as my mind floated in bliss. His huge, powerful hands stroked me tenderly and I grinned, never wanting this to stop.
I could feel how much he needed me though; how much it hurt to ignore his own arousal for so long, to concentrate on me instead of looking after himself. I wanted to make that all up to him, to repay his generosity by giving him exactly what he wanted. Everything he wanted.
"Condom," I murmured, still too ecstatic to move myself.
"Now?" he asked, surprised I wanted this so quickly. "Are you sure?"
My eyes fluttered open finally as I just grinned at him in response, nodding and biting my lip as I thought about how great this would feel.
He moved inhumanly quickly then, getting himself ready in under a second, then pulling me on top of his chest, his mind snarling pleasepleaseplease nownownow as his lust was finally allowed to take over. He expected me to slide back onto him, my body still limp with delight, but I knew what the tiger in him needed, knew what it would take to satisfy all of him the way he satisfied me.
I got up, watching his eyes shift from purple to amber and back again as he fought the urge to grab my hips and pull me back down onto him. Then I turned around and crawled down his body, 'presenting' to him in the way a tigress in heat would, inviting him to mount me by turning around and offering him my wet, swollen sex. He growled as I did, his tiger instincts screaming at him to take me while his human self fought to keep any control. I didn't stop to tease him, just moved down his body quickly, and still his hands twice made their way to my hips before he pulled them back again, determined to let me do this my way.
I took his hand and made him press on the underside of his cock the way he'd once shown me, knowing he was too excited to last long otherwise. Then I lined myself up, leaning right forward so he could see exactly what I was about to do, enjoying the desperate whines that escaped him as he saw his tip right there at my entrance, so big he always marveled that he could fit inside me at all. Then I sat right up and looked over my shoulder at his face as I slowly lowered myself onto him, taking him inch by inch, watching his features contort in delight the same way mine did as I gradually filled myself with him.
I could only take him halfway at first, but the scorching heat of him inside me made my body open to him quickly, letting me lower myself just a little further with each long, slow slide down onto him. His eyes were glued on me, flicking back and forth between watching me swallow him up, and studying the look on my face as I did. It was my favorite feeling, to be full of him like this, so wide and hard and hot and wonderful, and he could see that pleasure written all over my face.
"Oh, babe," he whimpered, as I finally sunk all the way down onto him. His eyes were full of love and adoration, even as his mind buzzed with intense, uncontrollable, animal lust.
"Feels so great," I told him, beckoning him to sit up and kiss me, which he immediately did.
As he sat up, his movement changed the angle of him within me, finally putting pressure on that amazing spot inside me. My hips made short, sharp little rolls then, taking more and more of that fantastic sensation, despite my previous intention to wait just a little longer. He beamed when he saw the desperate quality of my movements, thrilled I was finally taking pleasure in his body, just as he wanted me to. His hand in my hair kept my lips on his, our mouths dueling as his body moved with mine, pushing me to another peak.
"Oh, John," I moaned, my insides just starting to tremble around him. "So good. Love you."
Then I was there, my body shaking one more time, milking him, shattering for him. I was leaning back against him, loving the feel of his chest against my back, moaning for him as he kept on kissing me.
But even when he felt me come, he couldn't stop now, was too far gone, too overwhelmed by his own lust to even think about pausing. Perfect. He was finally taking me, claiming me, pushing me down onto his cock with far more force than he thought he should, making me whimper as our bodies slapped together. I knew exactly how to get what I wanted now, knew there was no way he could deny me when he needed this too.
"Fuck me," I begged again. "Oh God, please, fuck me."
He growled and suddenly I was on my belly, his arm under my hips to pull them up to him as he slammed back into me, all the way inside in a single smooth, hard movement. I made little appreciative noises the whole time, struggling to get my arms and legs under me to push back against him, to take him harder and faster and deeper and rougher. Presenting to him like a tigress in heat had let the tiger in him take over, and there was nothing human about the way he was moving within me. He growled and hissed as he rubbed my insides so fiercely I could do nothing but whimper, finally getting the animal as well as the man deep inside me.
I screamed "oh yes," over and over, knowing I had all of him at last and loving every second it it.
And just when I was sure his tiger instincts had taken over entirely, he surprised me by telling me exactly how he felt.
"So. Fucking. Beautiful," he panted in my ear, punctuating each word with a hard, fierce thrust into me. "So. Damn. Perfect. Love. You. My. Woman. All. Mine. Come. Now."
"Yes, yours," was all I managed to whimper in reply before I was there one last time, moaning my delight as he finished with me, roaring in my ear. Shuddering together, his body curled around mine, warming and protecting me as he held me tight, never wanting to let me go.
We stayed tangled together in a sweaty ball of satisfied flesh for a long time afterward, his lips caressing the back of my neck. His limp body was heavy on top of mine, but I didn't mind; it felt so right to have him resting on my back, softening inside me, wrapped all around me. But as soon as he recovered enough to realize he was resting his weight on me, he pulled us both onto our sides, cuddling me even closer. I smiled at the tender way he tended to me, brushing hair from my face as he arranged his limbs around mine.
Cocooned by his strong, warm body I drifted into a dreamless sleep, finally certain I was where I belonged.