the_bad_brother | [mature: For Katniss]

Continued from here.

Damon pulled her into the bedroom, sighing against her mouth before slowly pulling back, breaking the kiss. He smiled at her, pushing her coat off of her shoulders and giving himself a moment to keep his blood lust under control. He didn't want to tip his hand too soon and freak her out, he'd already had to compel her once. If he had to do it again just to keep her here this would be less fun.

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Now that I'm here, going headfirst into this like I'm not totally clueless, I don't really want to let go for a second. To shrug my coat off, though, I have to, so I let my hands fall to my sides, shoulders rolling back to help push my coat lower, until I can let it fall to the floor, breath catching in my throat. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I'm well aware that this is probably a terrible idea. The more I think that, though, the less I care. I've never been wanted like this before, everything so simple, without any sort of baggage attached, no idea of who I'm supposed to be that I have to live up to. Why wouldn't I want that?

As soon as my coat's off, I reach for him again, fingers curling in his shirt as I lean in for another kiss. At least this, I know how to do, and now I don't have to pretend, either.

Damon moaned softly as their mouths met again, holding her against him in an iron grip that she couldn't break even if she wanted to--but she didn't seem to want to, which was even better. He kissed her deeply, hungrily, then scooped her up in his arms without breaking the kiss, moving to the bed and lowering them both onto it so he could press his body against hers, one hand moving between them to unbutton his shirt deftly.

The way he holds on to me and picks me up, it's instinctive to want to try to pull away, but I don't let myself, breathing in as deep as I can. It isn't very much so, but it's something, enough to keep me focused, a little more relaxed. At least his laying me down saves me the trouble of having to awkwardly make my way over, anyway. This is easier, one of my hands finding the back of his neck as I lean up to kiss him, the other brushing against his chest as he unbuttons his shirt.

Damon discarded his shirt, then slid his hand beneath hers, fingertips grazing her abdomen as he kissed her deeply, torn between taking this slow and letting the anticipation build, and just getting on with the best part.

It's not entirely intentional, the way I shift under his touch like I'm looking for more. I'd feel self-conscious about it, but I really don't think he minds. Besides, it would be a waste when there's a lot more I have to feel that way about. For now, this, I don't have to worry about. I can even let him stay in the lead, even if I doubt that will be the case for much longer.

Damon's lips curled into a small grin as she moved, his mouth moving to her jaw, nibbling his way along it to her ear as he pushed her shirt up out of his way, moving a hand to her breast and caressing it, opting for the slow, heady build. The girl's reactions told him that the hot, angry sex he'd initially proposed wasn't the only option, wasn't even the most appealing option. There was something to be said for a nice, leisurely seduction after all.

It's almost too much to think about at once, a thought I push from my mind as quickly as possible, well aware that this is only just starting, that there'll be a lot more to come. I don't want to get too caught up in that now and stall later. If nothing else, with his mouth on my neck and his hand on my breast, my shirt pulled up — it occurs to me, probably a moment later than it ought to, to tug it over my head entirely, dropping it on the floor — it's easy to not think about much of anything else. I draw in a deep breath, one that comes out on a soft sound. I feel a little self-conscious about it, but not nearly enough to want him to stop.

Damon felt his teeth lengthen into fangs as his mouth moved over her neck, scraping them lightly over her skin before he forced his vampiric nature back into check. He would feed from her, of course, but not yet. First, he was going to enjoy the pleasures of her body before he partook of her blood.

Now that shirts were out of the way he moved onto pants, moving his mouth back to hers again, kissing her with a little more passion as he undid his jeans and slipped them and his underwear off. He wanted to feel her warm, soft skin against his.

I gasp audibly as his teeth graze my neck, holding on to him a little more tightly for it, fingers clutching his shoulders. Like this, I'm entirely too vulnerable, and I wouldn't be able to stand it if I didn't want so much, both because I'm determined to follow through and because, in spite of everything I tell myself, it feels too good. Nervous though I might be, I kiss him back with a little more surety once I can, arching up against him, my hands sliding down his back.

Edited Date: 2013-03-28 02:18 pm (UTC)

Damon let his tongue tease at hers as he undid her pants, lifting his body off of hers so he could hook his fingers into the waistband and tug them down. She was ready for him, and despite the plan for a slow seduction her reactions were starting to make him impatient. He could drag out the foreplay for a few more minutes, but they were going to be naked minutes.

It's all I can do not to gasp as he gets back to undressing me, though I'm short of breath anyway, so it probably wouldn't be all that noticeable. Even so, I lift my hips to help him, a reaction that's almost instinctive. It's not like any of these clothes are doing me any favors, anyway, and it isn't fair for me to stay dressed when he isn't. Besides, that's not what I came here for. I want the same thing I did back out on the sidewalk, all the more so for this kind of anticipation, no matter how obvious it will be that I was making it up before or how nervous I might be, deep down, of what he'll think of me with my clothes off. "About time."

Damon chuckled as he tossed her pants to the floor. "Impatient, are we?" he purred, leaning up above her and looking over her body with a considering eye. "Mmm, not bad when you're unwrapped," he commented, moving down to trail warm kisses along her collarbone as his hands slid down her sides, over the curves of her hips and down to her thighs.

"Maybe," I say in response to his question, an attempt at saving face, though the way my breath catches in my throat means it's probably not a very good one. He's the first person who's ever said anything like that when looking at me undressed, though, and while it's a far cry from his bringing me back here for this and the team of stylists meant to make me look good before the Games, I've only ever been led to believe otherwise. Right now, with his mouth and hands on my skin, my own holding him close, I think I could even let myself believe, if only for a moment, that he might not be wrong. "You wouldn't have a problem if I were, would you?"

"What, ugly?" Damon chuckled and paused to pull her nipple into his mouth, sucking gently. "If you were I wouldn't have bothered bringing you back here in the first place," he finished as he lifted his head again, smirking. "I'm definitely that shallow." His fingers moved between her legs, stroking and teasing, checking just how ready she was. There were times when he really didn't care if the girl enjoyed herself, but this time he actually wanted to see miss snarkypants lose her cool completely, and to prove just how right he'd been about the sex, even if they were skipping the angry part.

"Im—impatient," I say with a shake of my head, stuttering on the word as I gasp in a breath. I can't stop thinking that I shouldn't like this the way I do, that the way he touches me shouldn't just make me want more of the same, but I'm past caring. It doesn't matter that he's a stranger, that I've never done this before, that I'm entirely too vulnerable like this. Distantly, I think that I'm not as angry as I was, but that won't stay the case if he keeps drawing this out. I shift against his hand, the motion more unintentional than I mean to let on. "Not that I mind the compliments."

Damon grinned as he moved up again, removing his fingers as he positioned himself against her. "Who could blame you for being impatient for this?" he purred, and pressed inside of her smoothly, not even hesitating as he felt resistance. It soon gave way as his mouth covered hers, kissing her hard.

I'd say it's not what I'm expecting, but then, it isn't as if I could have really known what to expect. What I do know is that it takes everything in me not to cry out when he presses inside of me, a cry I stifle by biting hard on his lip, my body going tense under his. There's no pretending now that I have any kind of experience to speak of, but at least that hasn't stopped him yet. Though it hurts — and though I'd never admit that — I have no intention of letting it do so, limbs wrapped around him, my head tipping back so I can gasp in a breath only to kiss him again. "You — you really think highly of yourself."

"Mmm...yes, I do," Damon agreed matter-of-factly as he started to move, nice and slow, letting her get used to the new sensation--newer than he'd expected it to be, but he wasn't going to remark on that. Not now, anyway. His hands moved over her skin, stroking and caressing as he kissed her.

It doesn't surprise me to hear him say that. What does, even though it probably shouldn't, is that he doesn't seem intent on this being something angry like he was when he suggested it. I'd been all for it then. Now, it's hard to tell which I'd prefer. Just his hands feel good, even when I'm still trying to catch my breath and figure out what I'm doing without seeming like I am, but I didn't come here for something nice and sweet, either. Then again, it's not like it will mean much of anything anyway, so why should it matter? "And you don't even try to pretend otherwise," I say wryly, words coming out muffled when I lean in to keep kissing him. "How's that worked for you?"

"Well, you're here," Damon pointed out with a chuckle. He sped up, because if she was able to have a conversation there was no reason to keep things slow and gentle. When he was done with her she wouldn't even remember how to speak.

I mean to respond, but then it seems pointless, words dying in my throat as I let out a breath that's more like a moan. Like he said, I am here, and right now, I don't want to to be anywhere else, not even in my own head. He doesn't seem to have any intention of letting that not be the case, at least. "Yeah," I say breathlessly a moment later. "I'm here."

She was still talking, so Damon put a stop to that by kissing her, hard and deep. He found a comfortable rhythm, pinning her to the bed with his body as he moved, keeping his focus on her body instead of her blood--for now, anyway.

With his mouth against mine, I stifle a sound up into the kiss, my back arching as much as his body will allow. That that isn't much doesn't bother me as much as it should, though. I'm still half-convinced I'm crazy, but fully intent on seeing this through, my nails dragging down his back with one thrust of his hips. There's not a whole lot more I can do, but while I may not know what I'm doing, I don't plan to just lie here.

Damon was actually kind of impressed with her enthusiasm. For a virgin, that was. He lifted off of her a little bit, breaking the kiss to grin down at her, still thrusting. "Is this what you call angry?" he taunted playfully, breathlessly. "A few scratches?" Not that she'd be able to leave a mark on him no matter how she tried.

It takes a moment before I can work up the will to speak, though however obvious it may be, I have no intention of saying so. Doing so would feel too much like conceding, like letting him win, even if a part of me suspects that he already has, by getting me here in the first place. It's not like that hasn't worked out alright for me, too. "You haven't seen me get angry," I reply, likewise breathless, gaze sharp as I look up at him. "That's not what I'd call this at all."

"Oh yeah? Don't hold back on my account," Damon challenged, smirking at her for a moment before kissing her again, his movements becoming a little rougher, urging her to let go, to give him that angry sex they'd come here for.

If I have been holding back, it's definitely not on his account. I'm not even sure it's on mine. It's just that, though I'd never admit as much, least of all to him, there's too much to focus on, trying to keep up with him and not seem as inexperienced as he's got to know I am and ignore the fact that I might be something a little close to scared. Now that he's said so, though, I think getting angry could be a good thing. This doesn't call for it, not really, but if that's what he wants, I might as well. For just a moment, I stop thinking about him, and remember instead all the things that have gone wrong over the past couple of years, the ones I've tried to change and couldn't, the people taken from me. That one moment, then no more. With my eyes shut, it just about works. Though there's a moan in my throat at the way he feels inside me, I get rougher in turn without having to plan on it, my hips lifting sharply against his, one hand curling in his hair and pulling tight as I kiss him, a press of lips more violent than anything resembling romantic.

Damon growled his approval, matching her in the kiss as he kept moving. He liked this one, she was fiery. For all her inexperience she was doing a pretty good job, and he was pleased that he'd chosen her.

He felt himself starting to get close and broke the kiss with a soft gasp, moving to her neck and biting, not hard enough to break the skin yet, teasing his darker side to bring it to the surface. He hoped she tasted as good as she snarked.

Mouth falling to the side under his neck, I suck in a sharp breath through my teeth at the feel of his against my skin, hips rocking up sharply. Distantly, I find myself wondering how long something like this is supposed to last. It's not that I'm growing impatient, I just don't know, and that's never mattered before. For the moment, I just have to try not to think too much, at least not about anything else. It won't help if I do.

Okay, that was definitely a promising reaction. At this rate, she probably wouldn't even notice when he started feeding on her. That was good, he didn't want it to ruin the moment, and your sexual partner freaking out about you drinking their blood had a tendency to do that.

He groaned and bit harder, finally letting himself tear into flesh, getting his first taste of her blood. He sucked at the tear with an eager sound, continuing to move for a minute more before he stiffened, climaxing as her blood rolled over his tongue, the perfect combination.

Something is different. At first, I don't notice it, or the way I cry out, my body caught between too many other sensations, but the way he's mouthing at my neck isn't quite the same as it was a moment before. Neither is the jolt of pain surging through it, though that's more difficult to differentiate, everything so intertwined. It already feels like every nerve in me is worn raw. This could just be part of that. Tense and restless anyway, I shift beneath him, a hand in his hair, and my breath catches before I've thought through why, heart stuttering in my chest. "What —"

Damon wasn't about to stop feeding to explain himself to her. He kept drinking for a minute more, then pulled back, lips and chin smeared with her blood. He gave her a moment to register this, for the shock or fear or whatever emotion such a sight might stir in her to kindle, then he compelled her again. "You won't remember I bit you. You had a random hookup with a stranger, then were attacked by a stray dog on your way home. It knocked you down and bit your throat before you could fight it off." He licked his lips, pleased with how this whole encounter had gone.

He draws back and even I can't pretend, if only for a moment, that I'm not terrified. There's blood on his face — my blood, I think, lifting my fingers gently to my neck, wincing when they brush torn skin — and though it's occurred to me more than once that I don't really know what I'm doing here, this is something completely different. Then he speaks, before I have a chance to do anything about it, and I'm not sure why I was so worried. A dog bite is bad, but I'll just get Prim to look at it when I get back to the house. I'm sure she'll know what to do about it, and it's not like I haven't been hurt worse. "A dog bit me," I say, frowning, hand still hovering near my neck. "Do you have anything I could put on this?"

"Yeah, sure." Damon got out of bed and padded to the bathroom, getting some gauze and medical tape and tossing it onto the sheet next to her as he returned. "You might want to wash it out so it doesn't get infected," he added with a faint smirk.