First Date (Tag M-)

[daywalkingblade]

The black muscle car rumbled into the gravel parking lot of what looked to be a bar/saloon in the middle of nowhere, upstate New York. The place was south of Rochester by about forty miles. Above the entrance, a tacky red neon sign read "The Roadhouse". There was no one hanging around outside, but thee were several cars and motorcycles. It was pretty quiet for what one might expect of a bar, at least from the outside. As the car pulled to a stop, Blade glanced at his passenger. This was going to be...interesting. She was too pretty and far to classy for a place like this. Hell, she was probably too stunningly beautiful to be in this car with someone as rough around the edges as Blade. But here they were. People would notice as they went into the bar, but nobody would say anything. Of that fact at least, Blade was certain.

"We're here. Stay close, and order whatever you want. The food's actually pretty good, and the drinks are better. Once I get some information on where to find some suckheads, we'll be out." He flashed a little bit of a toothy grin. "Guess you could say this is the closest to a "date" portion of this outing as we'll get."

They both pushed their doors open and stood up out of the car. The parking lot remained silent. Hunters and mercenaries were probably inside drinking quietly, enjoying a bit of peace. There were the occasional loud, rowdy drinkers - usually the mercs - but most just wanted a place to rest and get information before the next big job. Also, most didn't trust the night enough to be drunk out in it. Blade knew the bartender inside. A good woman by the name of Ellen who really knew her shit. It was why he liked coming here. Of course, he knew the bartenders in most of the Roadhouses around the country. It was a bit of a chain, but not in the corporate sense. When a place was named "The Roadhouse" in some back country nowhere, it was a kind of secret sign to all hunters and some mercenaries that this was a safe haven and a good place to exchange information and get jobs. They were also neutral zones. Any who dared cause any trouble in these kinds of places was blacklisted, and that was as good as being fired in this line of work. In some cases, it was a death sentence because it also meant no assistance in any job ever again.

"You ready?"

Comments

To compensate for the weirdness I pulled my blade movies down for a watch

[cold_as_snow]

Her eyes clench shut against the blaze of light, refusing to let it make her useless on the walk out of the building. The sound of the dead giving up is music to her ears and the ensuing quiet is enough encouragement to have her give the room another once over. Bone and flesh ash fills the room, but there's something clean to the air that wasn't there with dead claiming the place. Things were resting better. The night was calmer.

And Blade was so very alive. Ready to move to save her, then not moving, his blood coursing and adrenaline high. Checking her out for more than wounds. She can't really help but look him over with a very similar appreciation. Or take a few steps closer, unsure what she plans until she holds out the sword to him, flat against the palm of her hand. The smile that curls her lips is hungry, but controlled.

"Like it was the most natural thing in the world. Like there are other things on my mind."

They will always hold a special place in my heart. Especially the first one. So much love...

[daywalkingblade]

There was one thing in between him and her, and it was his sword. That was one important thing, and he took it from her as she held it out to him. With a quick motion, he slid it back into its scabbard on his back. It had done its job in protecting her. In that he was proud. He wasn't so proud of how he'd almost blinded her before, though. So she could do the day, but extreme amounts of that kind of light were about as annoying to her as they were to him without his sunglasses. Noted. He'd have to get her a pair of sunglasses of her own.

That left the fact that there was now nothing in between them except the victory high and her innuendo that vampires were about the last thing on her mind right now. Was he actually considering that seriously, right now? In this place? Yeah, yeah he was. Fuck it.

He stepped forward, sliding a gloved hand along her jawline. True to form as a man of action over words, he didn't say anything as he leaned in and kissed her. Her lips were surprisingly cool against his, but he liked it. What could he say about it, anyway? He wasn't as cold blooded as a vampire, but he was cooler than the average human. If he allowed himself the fiction, he could almost think she was like him, or he was like her. Almost.

But regardless, it felt good. He hadn't allowed himself anything like this in a long time. Now though...now he felt like he was on top of the world. He was the king shit. There were no truly big bad suckheads that could challenge him and endanger someone close to him. This might not be right a month from now, or a year from now, or who knew how long. She might grow into that woman in the car. She might not. But for now, it felt right, and that was enough for him. Now was all that was important in this kind of life.

The first one was my favorite movie from like age 11 to 15 or so...

[cold_as_snow]

The way he takes his sword gives another flavor to her smile. A little softness to flavor desire as the warrior puts his sword away somewhere safe. They both are what they are, and, somehow, that isn't a problem for the moment. No problem at all given his next step forward.

She tilts her head back slightly as his hand runs over her jaw, encouraging him to touch more of her skin even through the gloves as she reaches up to stroke along his cheek just as he leans down. His body is warmer than hers, but not so warm as to feel alien. His lips are soft even as his body is strong. The moment is perfect. The kiss is perfect. She takes a step to close the distance between them, leaning against him, even risking the metal of his armor for that.

I'll admit, I still have yet to find another to replace it as my stated favorite movie...

[daywalkingblade]

At her encouragement, he deepens the kiss. His hand slides back behind her head, tangling in her red hair. The kisses are sweet, and his tongue meets hers cautiously, and then with more abandon. When she leans against him, his arm slips behind her to hold her tightly to him. At one and the same time he curses and is thankful for his armor - curses because it keeps him from fully feeling her torso against his, but thankful because he uses kevlar so he doesn't have to worry about that iron allergy quite as much. He just has to keep her from touching a lot of his weaponry. Although truth to be told, that's mainly just the guns - the stakes are all silver on the outside.

For several moments, he revels in the affection. Seeing her in action had been the last boundary between him and allowing himself to feel something for this woman that had so easily slipped into his life. It had perhaps even been only a formality, but a necessary one. And he had barely waited for the so-called "test" to be over before he had kissed her. Maybe he wanted this more than he realized.

The moment holds as long as it can, and then he pulls back just a little and breathes in deeply, her scent filling his nostrils and bringing forth a smile. Then he glances around the room and back at her.

"The moment is right, but is the place?" It was the cleaned out nest of suckheads, rife with the ashes of their kills. No one would disturb them here, but this was a very classy lady for all of her skill in hunting and killing. She wasn't the queen any more, at least not now. She was M-. But there was still something in her bearing that said he should respect her as royalty. But that could have just as easily have been his version of puppy love.

I have the same issue at the moment. Fido is close, but not quite there

[cold_as_snow]

She forgets where they are as one kiss becomes many and she learns not just the feel, but the taste of his kiss. Her fingers running along the back of his neck, teasing the bottom of his carefully cut hair. There is no one else there, just the two of them and that is a freedom that is pure and sweet. Especially as he goes to hold her tighter in his arms.

Later she will remember that, for the serious man that his is, this is fast. That he had thought about it at dinner, before the test, and that moment it was clear they weren't going to die, he had responded to her offer. M- is so very glad he responded to that offer. She won't be a creature defined by love, but she won't be a creature who must be alone to define herself.

Her breath come just slightly faster than before the kiss, more from the restraint and the stop than exertion. She wants to get closer again. Funny, she doesn't remember needing closeness like this before. Perhaps she is a creature who lives alone in her world until she lets someone in.

"Perhaps we can find somewhere more fitting? Unless you want to hold out for another time?"

I had not known of Fido until I just looked it up! I may have to find that one now.

[daywalkingblade]

Blade glances around again at their surroundings. The high of a good battle won is still in his system, and will likely be for a while. They could certainly go further here. However, he found that he cared about her more than that. It was a quick kind of of care, true. Not quite love at first sight or anything silly like that, but in his mind this was a woman that deserved better, that deserved the best. Fucking over a kill was not the best. Perhaps the woman in the car might enjoy that, and perhaps there would be time for that later, but right now? The first taste of intimacy? No. Also, this was a place where people had lived and loved that had been defiled. He would defile it no more.

But that did not mean they had to go far. What limited knowledge he had of the fae said they were natural beings. As an unseelie, the night was her domain, under the moon and the stars.

"This way." He nodded to the back door and took her gently by the hand. After but a step, he paused and took his hand back. Without much ceremony, he pulled off the gloves and stashed them in a pocket. Then he took her hand again in his and lead her outside.

Half a mile of walking, perhaps less, took them to a wide open field. It was one unused for planting or harvesting. The family that had once lived in the house had likely used this area for picnicking and the children for play. It was a fresh, clean place, free of the stench of dead vampires. More, here she all but shone. He slowly lifted a hand to remove his sunglasses, wanting to see her without their dimming effect. His eyes widened, a bit of surprise in them at just how startling the change was. Or was it just that without the blinders of the mission and the worry for her safety, he was now able to appreciate her fully?

"Beautiful."

His various weapons and anything resembling iron fell to the ground as he unclasped them all. The kevlar joined them. In moments, he was just a man in black jeans and a shirt. Being stunned by her unearthly beauty didn't get in the way of the pragmatism of taking off everything that would either be harmful to her or come between them.

It was one of the better uses of netflicks I've ever had.

[cold_as_snow]

It's good to be out of the house that's been haunted for too long. She has spent so very little time out of the city since she woke up, wrapping the very toxicity and danger of a city built of steel and iron around herself. The poison of it helps suppress the least human parts of herself which have already come to bear with this hunt in more than one way. Walking through the farmland brings out something else until she's almost able to predict the appearance of the empty field.

His eyes are remarkable when he actually takes the shades off. Expressive, which could very easily explain the other part of why he kept them hidden. It would be difficult to keep the stone look up between his eyes and his surprisingly mobile mouth. Of course, his smile just added to the mystique. And he called her beautiful.

Silver knives in sheathes make their own little pile as he strips his weapons and armor. The softer gleam of old world silver is barely visible between the leather wrapped handles and sheaths, but part of her wondered if there wasn't another reason he wore those leather gloves between all his silver weapons. Besides, she had no plans to have him find one of her knives while his mind should be on other things.

M- steps closer to him, realizing this is the first time she's seen Blade anything other than armed to the teeth. There's a kind of vulnerability to that, without making him any less dangerous. Which was good, because they both knew she was never actually unarmed as long as she was awake. He had just seen a demonstration for himself. Neither was looking to become something. Just to let enough of their guard down to be touched by someone else. So she peels her gloves off, letting them fall with the knives as she reaches for him.

I'll see if it's still there, although my internet in the new apt here SUCKS. }:/

[daywalkingblade]

Blade steps forward to meet her, and there in the middle of the soft grass under an almost new moon they embrace again. Before their kiss, he breathes in deeply of her scent now that it isn't mingled with undeath. The ash had fallen away in the walk, but she still looked beautifully disheveled from the fighting. A warrior princess. Part of him hesitated, uncertain of if he was worthy of a woman such as her. She had been a queen. He was but a warrior, and a solitary one at that. Blade was no knight. There were fairy tales about trysts like this, but everyone knew that fairy tales weren't real. Or were they?

The hesitation was brief, and he broke it by pulling her more fully against him than before and kissing her with heat and passion. The man who was always in absolute control stopped thinking and let instinct take over. Who cared if she used to be a queen? Who cared that he'd always been obsessed with preserving humanity, and now he fell for a woman that wasn't human? Who cared how different they could be, or how similar they actually were, two people who groped for humanity even as something inside each of them denied them it? For the moment, he could just be, be himself, and be with her.

The moment once again lasted forever and no time at all. Would that it could last forever, but there reached that point where they would either go further or nowhere at all. He broke the kiss, but could not resist peppering her face with many smaller kisses before resting his forehead against hers.

"Are we doing this? Do you want to?"

Ugh, that sucks.

[cold_as_snow]

Whatever reason he has for pausing is a bad reason, but she doesn't bring it up. M-'s recent romantic ventures might have been more complicated that a soap opera about Greek gods, but she at least had them. Blade has been alone in most ways for a long time, if not most of his life. A moment to catch himself makes sense and is more than made up for when he closes the distance.

This embrace was nothing about art and everything about finding what they both needed in the moment. She didn't miss her name because she didn't need it alone with Blade under the open sky. M- was a part of the night, a part of the approaching winter, and entirely a woman in the arms of a suitor she desired. And then there's a break and a question. Two questions.

She looks up at him, pupils dilated, lips slightly bruised. "I want you very much. Do you?"

Capped at 3mbps on the highest tier. And usually it's less than 1. But presumably, Comcast is coming

[daywalkingblade]

His eyes met hers, and he thought about the question for a moment. Really, he knew the answer even before she asked it, but it was a question that deserved consideration. It was interesting that brown eyes could be softer than most, and his were no exception - a stark contrast from the hard man they belonged to. There was no doubt that he wanted her right here, right now. Nothing was complicated about this. Nothing should be.

With a brief nod, he pulled off his t-shirt and flicked it to the ground. His torso was well muscled and not as scarred as one might think from a lifetime of fighting. It was the regenerative ability he had from his vampiric blood. There were a few scars, sure, from when he had been unable to get to his serum or to any blood quickly enough to heal cleanly.

In further wordless answer to her, he stepped forward and slid his hands up under her shirt. The feel of her skin against his was amazing. It had been too long since he'd held a woman, felt her move against him. For several moments, he just let his hands roam up her back and down along her sides. It was cool, and pleasant. Instinct pulled him closer to her again. She was of the night, and the night was in him. After those moments of just feeling her, he started to slide her shirt up and over her head, his fingers deftly unclasping her bra as they went over that part.

"Yeah. I do."

Comcast needs to come quickly for your sake.

[cold_as_snow]

She runs her hands over the expanse of exposed skin before the shirt even hits the ground. The heat of his body against her skin draws her closer as her eyes travel over the few scars that lasted before settling back on his gaze. Her gazes is steady even as she catches her lower lip lightly in her teeth as his hands find her skin.

When his hands move up, it's a mercy that saves her from the horrible tenderness and desire in the previous moment of still intimacy. M- helps him remove the shirt and bra, shaking her hair free of the shirt's collar and it's own band. Her hair spills over her shoulders but not enough to conceal her from him in the pale moonlight. She seems almost too real in this place, and certainly more so as she pushes what remains of her clothing down her hips.

The vulnerability she offers him with the next kiss has nothing to do with her nudity and everything to do with her desire. M- is not a virgin, but does that count when she can't remember? His is the first bare skin she remembers pressed against hers, and if her body comes with the instincts and ability, there's every difference between that and this moment of reaching for Blade.

"I'm glad."

Tell me about it..their WORST tier is 20mbps I think.

[daywalkingblade]

Not being one to waste time, especially with the awkward things, Blade quickly undoes his boots and kicks them off as she pushes the rest of her clothing down her hips. It takes him a few seconds longer than her, but he pushes his own pants down. Clothing in this place and this moment is just in the way.

When she next kisses him, there is absolutely nothing between them. His skin presses against hers, and his arousal is separated from her only by a moment. It's a moment that he doesn't take yet, however. If she was married in a previous life, then she isn't a physical virgin, but virginity is a mindset as much as anything else. She comes to him as new as she can be, and he recognizes that vulnerability. And what does he have to offer? He's not exactly a virgin, but it's been a long time. No, what he has to offer is a protection of that vulnerability, because he is a protector.

As they kiss, he lays her down gently, oh so gently, onto the soft grass. His hands explore her body, which is at once tender and soft and yet hard enough underneath to be the huntress he saw before. Suddenly, she is his primary and his only concern. Her needs, her wants, her desires, he wants to meet all of them. The woman without a name or a past is tonight his present, and he will make sure that her present is her only concern right now. She deserves that much and more, but this is all he has to give. He hopes that it is enough.

...A whole order of magnitude better.

[cold_as_snow]

She follows him down to the grass, heart beating faster as the warrior becomes so careful with her. The ground is still warm from the sun, and more comfortable than she would have guessed as his weight settles over her. His hands elicit soft sounds and shifts as M- tries to extend the touches that stir up more need and emotion. He seems to respond instinctively, and in turn encourages her hands to do the same.

Blade is a warrior with a warrior's body, muscle and strength with just enough flexibility to balance out to an impressive masculine beauty. Her hands trace scars like they are precious things, reminders of what he is capable of surviving. Dim light or no, there can be no doubt she sees him as she kisses softly along his shoulder or up to catch his mouth. Her senses are full of him, rendering the present as a simple, needful thing. Tonight is all about the next brush of skin and teasing touch and rising fervor that will culminate in something beautiful.

She knows it.

Yeah..oi. I patiently watch Supernatural right now with LOTS of buffering. That's a kind of love.

[daywalkingblade]

Even while on the ground, he is able to hold her and be gentle with her. His body is a solid 230 pounds of muscle, but there is a warrior's grace about it. He knows how to use that weight, and how to make it light when it needs to be. When she traces his scars, he looks down at them and back at her. There is no real expression, as his scars don't mean much to him one way or the other, but when seen through her eyes they are of sudden importance. When she kisses him and touches him in the right places, he sighs out with little moans of pleasure.

After a little while, he leans back and braces himself on his arms to look down at her. She sees him, and he sees her. His eyes are full of adoration and appreciation of her. How anyone could deny her is beyond him, but that is all to his benefit.

"Let's start slow." He smiled at her softly, and it's a fuller smile than she's probably seen yet.

He begins to kiss his way down her body, nipping here, licking there, sucking where appropriate. As he goes, he takes his time, letter her just bask in the pleasure. When he reaches her center, that little flash of red, he looks up at her and meets her eyes for a moment. In a way, it's a moment of truth and trust between them, and he knows it. Then he lowers and begins to work with that tongue, teasing her and chasing her pleasure and the eventual first sweet release.

a very special, very determined love.

[cold_as_snow]

What M- sees in Blade's eyes eases an ache that both does and doesn't belong to her. How deep are injuries that chase a person from one life to the next? So lasting she doesn't even realize it was there until the tension eases. The hunter may only have this moment to give, but this moment is exactly what she needs. It lights up her eyes that catch the moonlight even when he should shadow them. Love may be a long and complicated thing, but the affection here is real and sweet in its simplicity.

"All right," she answers, savoring his smile and trusting his instincts.

The hint of the sharpness of his teeth, the warm and wet of his mouth have her moaning with gentle urgency long before her makes his way down between her legs. Her inherited body is responsive, and she is grateful that he is willing to explore it. Glad for the moments when she can reach and touch him until he pauses to catch her gaze. Her breath catches in her throat for a moment before coming out in a low moan.

At first she can hardly move or speak, then her body tenses and relaxes, soft murmurs of his name on her tongue to encourage him when the touch is just right. His earlier touch help him in the pursuit of her pleasure, making it something that she feels build like waves until she almost drowns in the pleasure in gasps and moans.

Indeed. I'm late to that show's party, but I do love it so now.

[daywalkingblade]

Even before he ever gets to the center of her womanhood, he is enjoying the taste of her. There is a soft but definite taste to her skin that he relishes. Every kiss, lick, and bite brings that out. The moans that he elicits from her are an added bonus, arousing him all the more for her. But it's the taste below that really does it for him. Some might say that pleasuring her first like this was selfless, but that's not true. Feeling, hearing, and tasting her pleasure are all such amazing things that he feels it almost selfish.

He can feel her building, building...and he draws it out for as long as he can. The longer you make the climb, the higher this particular mountain. Just because he hadn't done this in a while didn't mean that he was out of practice. His tongue goes deep, then comes out to circle around the most sensitive spot. There he sucks a little until it is firmer, he blows, and he moves back down. Each time he does it, her gasps and moans become more intense until finally, her thighs claps around his head and he rides her waves, listening to the cries that fill the quiet night.

When she is recovering, he sits back and smiles at her, licking the last of the taste of her from around his mouth. "How was your new first there? Kinda glad I get to participate in this part of your learning who you are." He lifted an eyebrow over his smile. "Learn anything interesting?"

I watched it before it got angel filled. It's a good show.

[cold_as_snow]

The first thing M- truly registers as she starts focusing on the world outside of her own body is the little flicker of Blade's tongue over his lips. It sends a pleasant thrill through her that's a much subtler echo of the feeling that still sends gentle ripples through her. The next is the faintest glimmer a of a rime already melting in a ring around the edge of the clearing. Oh. Well. That was something to remember in the future.

She focuses on his face for now, the smile where he is so obviously pleased with himself but also honestly pleased. Desire stirs immediately, as if she weren't still panting gently to catch her breath. Of course, that hunger is every bit as much about wanting to see him in such a state as getting more satisfaction for herself.

She shifts her weight forward so she can slick over to him, looking for all the world like a cat about to pounce. "It was exquisite. And I find that I am a greedy thing. My own pleasure is not enough to slow me for long. Not when I still want yours."

She installs herself in his lap, arms draping over his shoulders so she can take her time. M- claims his mouth with utter confidence and tenderness. Entirely aware of how their bare bodies fit, the kiss is both tease and entirely designed to serve it's own purpose.

I'm in S4, where the angels first show up. I hear the post S5 seasons get a little rocky though :/

[daywalkingblade]

"You do recover fast..."

If he noticed the flash freezing of the area outside the clearing, he didn't say anything. He honestly wasn't paying attention to that, but if he was it would be one hell of a boost to the ego. Even if that happened every time, it still communicated a kind of intensity of orgasm that was intoxicating. Maybe he'd notice later, but for now his attention was taken up by her shifting her position to over top of him. Just like that, the tables have turned, and he grins up at her.

"A greedy thing, hmm? Greedy and giving, I see. Nice."

His arms slide around her waist and he returns her kiss, holding her body to his. He is so very aroused for her, but it's her turn to tease him. His moans of need for her are soft and deep, but they are the only voice he gives to his request for her to take him. He needs her, but he has her. His hands twine up her back, reveling in just the feel of her again. It's almost hard to believe that this is real, but there she is, almost hyper-real as the soft moonlight highlights her over him.

"Only name I'll have for you though will be my yells of that pleasure you want from me," he half pants, "Unless there's something you want to be called, just by me, just for tonight?"

There are still people who love them, so maybe you'll be one of them!

[cold_as_snow]

"Fast enough."

It would be impossible for her to doubt exactly what those moans mean, and she has no intention of ignoring them. Only reveling in his closeness first. His need pressed against her continues to ask rather than demand as his hands cause her to arch into their path, hair falling back away from her face. Yes, she needs him, too. Just a little more. The right trigger. Like his question.

What is a name if it cannot be given or taken or used? Nothing and everything. A name, then, for him and for her. She brushes her lips against his ear gently. "Maeve." A deep shudder runs through her after she says the word. There is no telltale little flare that says she's lying when she gives him the name. Only the knowledge that it is true.

Probably will be...been addicted to ghost stories since I learned to read!

[daywalkingblade]

As she leans over him, her body shifts against his comfortably, so comfortably that he would normally be unable to resist writhing in pleasure and need underneath her. He feels the soft press of hairs below and then her full chest brushing against his own and pressing down there as she leans ever closer. Something in him senses the importance of this moment, though. Perhaps it is in her gaze, or in the way she leans in close to whisper, or perhaps the very night holds its breath as it alone along with Blade bears witness to this naming.

When she whispers it into his ear, a deep warm shudder passes through him. It is almost electric, touching every pleasure center he has. It isn't an orgasm, but it's damn close. There is power in a name, and even more in a naming. He'd always wondered what Strange meant by that -- hell, he'd always been just a hair away from thinking Strange was full of shit there, but Strange was never full of shit -- but now he knew. He felt it. And he felt special to have been there for it.

"Maeve," he breathed.

And who was he? A man who spurned his birth name in favor of the name of a weapon. He identified by one name but was given another. Oh yes, they made quite the pair in the pale moonlight. He dropped his head back to look her in the eyes again, and simply whispered her name one more time.

"Maeve."

Re: Probably will be...been addicted to ghost stories since I learned to read!

[cold_as_snow]

Each time he says her name it's like being touched. No, touched is the wrong word. It isn't intimate enough and too physical. This is different, raw with the newness, but utterly necessary because of that. Is this what everyone feels when their name is spoken? No, of course not. Names have power, yes, but whatever she is makes them so much more. How else would she find that word, that name, fit so well? M- may be what she uses for others for the moment, but Maeve is hers as much as Mab belonged to the woman she was before. New but still the same.

"Blade," she answers, so close to him it is almost a kiss. The power is there in the name he gave her, lesser than before, but she is sure that for a moment he will feel something like that stroking.

With very little effort and shift of her weight, she offers him entrance. There is so little to be afraid of in the increased intimacy provided by the slow roll of her hips that has him inside of her compared to the naming, it seems only natural. There is perhaps a mercy in the difference between the body and the mind, for the action is entirely pleasurable and without pain.

"Blade," she breathes with the next roll of her hips, going slow as he suggested. The fact they are both built so clearly to be capable of a more athletic performance is clear, but she left the need to show off in the farmhouse. They'll have more time to try to find out what else her body remembers soon enough.

[daywalkingblade]

His name on her lips sends another warm, delicious shiver down his spine. Somehow, he hasn't ever heard quite that much power in his chosen name. He feels as though she speaks directly to the innermost parts of his being, as if she both addresses and even to some degree claims him with that name. On her lips, his name is almost a different language, a mark that is unique only to him. Actually, he has felt some power in his name before, but only in the fear it could invoke. He had worked for that, but this...she gave him this.

"Oooooh...."

It's all he can vocalize as she finally slips down over him. Being inside her is everything he had dared not imagine before he had seen her in action, and more. There is something primal in being so connected, more primal than a name even and yet connected. Otherwise why would people cry out names in the height of passion? Something about her brought out a poetic side to his thoughts that he didn't know he had, but that was all right. There was no image here to maintain other than the one that would keep her in his arms for as long as possible.

His hands slid down to her buttocks and he held them, helping her move along his length. The moans shift to a few low growls as he claims her, she claims him, and he works to control himself. Slow, long, and steady. It is not because she is a fragile thing - she is anything but - but because this is a moment deserving of absolute respect. This is Maeve's virginal night in more ways than one, and she has given it to him. That is awe inspiring, and it shows in his eyes as he looks up at her before beginning to kiss her chest.

She might note that despite his licks, kisses, and nips, despite the fact that he is somewhat more at peace with what he is around her, never once do the fangs come out. There is a line, and giving in to what is vampiric in him crosses that line.

[cold_as_snow]

There are moments and ways to set magic. Rituals for the people who function under the need, and acts for those with a wilder magic. Sex is one of those acts, and while the list is long, it's one of the least destructive when used with good intent. Tonight, with the naming, there's no doubt that is a part of making it real. Her name will stick, and they will both be able to walk away no more bound by the magic of the naming than by what their emotions leave them to. She is not a succubus, nor is she any of the fae equivalents. Freely given, freely taken.

The sense of coiled muscle and barely contained control is far more intoxicating than the scrape of his fangs against her skin ever could be. Tonight is not a night for blood,and it is his choice to be careful and slow that is so sharply sweet she can't help but gasp like laughter, a very different sound from what she made during the fight. Every movement of her hips in his hands, her legs curled around him for leverage, her hand that range over his skin, invites him in and welcomes him to the next touch. She offers no threat to him.

The very fact of her head falling back, drawing all their hair over her shoulders and exposing all the skin from her throat to her breasts to him as he kisses down is an act of trust. The way he rewards her skin has her moving more deeply against him with just he barest hint of increased speed. Enough to make the friction where their bodies join sing along her nerves. Muscles she's never quite had cause to use before play over his body, tightening and responding to her instincts, surprising her with the ease of response.

[daywalkingblade]

"Oh keep doing that please."

Her tinkling gasps that are like laughter are quite possibly the most beautiful thing he has ever heard. The beautiful sounds are highlighted even further by a life of facing down the ugly. To know beauty, now, was very nearly like a blind man suddenly being able to see. Or rather, to accept that beauty as something he could enjoy was like that. Certainly he'd seen beauty in the world before, but that had never been his world. Right here, right now, this was.

"Maeve..." It was just a pleasurable name to say. It was even more fun to repeat in time with the rhythm that they set.

Of course, that is interspersed by his moaning and moving under her as he thrusts deeper up into her, feeling those muscles contract and move around him. His hands sometimes slide further up her back, and his short nails scratch that pale white skin as their lovemaking flares in intensity here and there. It is never enough to break skin or draw blood, just enough for her him to communicate the effect she's having on him.

"Maeve, Maeve, beautiful Maeve..." He reaches up to tuck some hair that has come loose behind her ear and then he leans up to kiss her. The kiss is tender and loving even as there is fire below.

[cold_as_snow]

She doesn't quite make the sound again, detouring as she finds line of his shoulder with her mouth, kissing and nibbling in equal measure until she reaches his neck. There, she simple nuzzles, letting her chilled breath caress his skin. She might have stayed there, but he says her name, and gets another gasping laugh as it sends a sprawling bolt of sensation through parts of her that are anything but physical and all too real. Her hands tighten against his skin, pressing her chest to his so that her might almost feel the rapid beat of her heart beneath her breasts.

"Blade!" Soft and carrying, her exclamation is about all she can manage before the kiss. The repetition of her name is utterly dizzying and narcotic. His lips, the taste of him on her tongue, his smell and touch all hep to steady her so she can offer him all she has to give for the moment. Her name, affection, and desire range through the light brushes of her hands over his chest to the every careful movement below.