*** Trigger Warning: this chapter contains sexual content. Please take care when reading. If that's not your thing, feel free to move on to the next chapter.***
Isobel yelped as Alastor pulled her to the end of the bed until her legs fell off the edge and her feet hit the floor. Standing behind her, he swept her long, dark hair over a shoulder exposing her naked back. He wanted to drag his teeth across her skin, but settled for just his tongue which he ran up the length of the black line to the nape of her neck. Tingles instantly erupted all over her body.
Being that close to her throat, he couldn't help himself and bit down on the soft, delicate curve where her neck met her shoulder. He could hear her sharp release of breath, but whether it was from pleasure or pain, he did not know. Until, that is, Isobel arched her back and rolled up on her toes, pushing back against him.
He bit her again, but told himself this would have to be the last time. He was finding it hard to remain gentle. Next time he was liable to spill blood. But she didn't stop him and kept moving in ways that provoked more from him.
Leaning his weight onto her, Alastor buried his face in her hair and ran his hands down her body. Her hair smelled of the strange perfume Wrath and Lust left on her. She smelled of imps and angels. He hated it.
But that would be remedied immediately.
Alastor wrapped an arm around her waist as he loosened his belt. His trousers fell to the floor and he leaned over her again.
He half expected her to protest the position. She was tired from her ordeal. Her arms trembled under his pressure as she held herself against the mattress. But to his surprise, Isobel simply lifted a knee to the bed, the better to brace herself, then looked over her shoulder, her eyes beckoning.
She was ready for him. As he entered her there was no hesitation or resistance, just slick and smooth. The friction of which made him growl with the first few thrusts. However, she remained silent until looking back again with a dangerous expression and said, "harder, Alastor."
He readily indulged her demand, pushing harder and faster into her, which was finally met with gasps and moans. With one hand on Isobel's hip and the other tangled in her hair, they moved against each other until her moans turned to cries as she reached her pinnacle.
She couldn't hold herself up any longer. She dropped to her chest as her back arched like a cat's, arms outstretched as her fingers dug into the blankets. Her sounds of satisfaction were muffled as she lay face down.
Alastor lowered himself over her, his chest pressed against her back, pushing her down. He ran a hand down the length of her arm ending at her black, grasping fingers. He interwove his long, elegant digits with hers, his fingernails digging into her palm. His other hand snaked its way over her breasts, up her throat, and to her chin where he found her open mouth.
His fore and middle fingers found the soft warmth of her tongue and to his surprise, she closed around them and sucked hard. The sensation sent a sudden chill from his neck to his tail. His rhythm hit a fever pitch and what little control he had left vanished.
His teeth sunk into the back of her neck, an explosion of blood filling his mouth. Isobel winced from the pain, which caused her own teeth to gnash down on his fingers. The pain only heightened his orgasm.
Eventually, his teeth released, leaving a red crescent. The bite hadn't been as deep as he thought, but it had been enough.
Alastor rolled on to his back, eyes closed catching his breath. Isobel remained on her stomach, not quite sure she had any strength left to move.
Their breathing quieted and the throbbing in Isobel's neck started to subside.
"Why did you come back?" Alastor asked as he stared up at the shadows on the ceiling.
Isobel turned her head toward him, "what do you mean?"
"You had achieved your goal. The one you so tiresomely have been pursuing since you arrived. You made it back to the living world, and yet chose to return here. Why?"
Isobel sighed.
"Because you were right. I don't belong there anymore. Maybe I never did. But as I stepped back into that place it became very clear to me where I was supposed to be and who I was supposed to be with."
There was silence.
And then Alastor started to laugh. A maniacal, self-satisfied laugh.
"I was right all along," he said smugly.
"Ugh, shut up." Isobel rolled onto her side facing away from him.
He rolled toward her, pulled her close, and whispered in her ear, "You're just mad because I was right."
