keptherwaiting | 1863, Texas

1863, Texas

Jasper leans against the doorway of the barn, his gaze on the house across the way. The women, of course, were given the house, and he knows there's no danger for miles, yet he keeps watch. His gaze, in particular, resting on one candle-lit room.

The rest of the newborns are in the barn with him. Except for the one that Lucy pulled for the night as a companion. It's not the first time one of them has picked a lover to share a few hours with and it probably won't be the last, but it irks Jasper nonetheless.

Not because of Lucy, or that, just -

It makes the men even more obnoxious, especially when well-fed on top of it. Jasper would prefer them hungry now. At least their hunger distracts them from this. This is just -

His gaze drifts to the group behind him, where the others play a game of cards. The whispers from the corner make his jaw clench. The way they talk about the three woman.

- Obnoxious.

His gaze drifts off back to the house as Liam, the youngest of them, breaks off from the group and comes to join him. He braces himself. The boy is barely sixteen - he wishes Maria hadn't turned him. He can't control his feelings like some of the older newborns. He's more zealous when hunting, more anxious when hungry, and -

"Do they do that often?" he asks in a hushed whispers. "Take lovers?"

- Hornier, than the rest, on nights like these.

"Sometimes," Jasper grounds out, his jaw clenching tighter.

"Maria too?"

Jasper fights the urge to growl. “Stop talking and get back with the others,” he snaps instead, jerking his chin toward the group.

One of the older newborns looks up at the disturbance - Campbell, already grayed around the hairline - and he beckons the teenager back over to them. "C’mon, kid," his voice gruff as he meets Jasper's red-eyed gaze, all-knowing like he's the one with Jasper's powers, before he focuses on the kid again. "You ever play? We'll deal you in this time."

Jasper nods his thanks as Liam scurries back to the group and he looks to the house once more, back to the candle-lit window.

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There are so many questions he wants to ask - Why him? Why now? Is it just going to be the night? Is she sure?

But Jasper doesn’t ask any of those, especially not where he asks if she’s sure; Maria wouldn’t be asking - demanding? - if she wasn’t. He knows that much about her already, even without his powers to help him.

He only glances at the bed - he’s never actually done this before - and then, with his hands on her hips still, he guides her back to the bed with him.

He sits down on the edge of it, bringing her to stand between his knees, as he looks up at her. He can hear Lucy and the other vampire moving about in the next room now. They’ve finished but he doubts for long. The desire is strong.

As strong as what he has felt for Maria naturally and his gaze, not that he means for it to be, is worshipful, filled with his own desire and by the others’.

His hands tighten on Maria’s hips. “What do you want?” he asks in a near-whisper.

And the words left unsaid: He’s hers to command.

She appraises him, her hands at his shoulders, then neck, tilting his head this way and that way.

Leaning forward, Maria licks the length of his neck, her teeth scraping against his skin.

“¿Has hecho esto antes? Or am I to be your teacher, Major?”

His gaze flicks to the connecting wall.

He can hear the other two so clearly, Lucy’s voice high as she talks about nonsense, the voice of the male vampire low, asking her questions; and the sounds of them moving, intimate touches still -

“There wasn’t time,” he says, a little defensively. “Just - teach me.”

His fingers drift to the fastenings of her skirt.

“I learn fast.”

She laughs. “A fast learner—that you are, mi amante.”

A pet name he’ll earn tonight. Maria has no doubts she can teach him exactly what she wants him to know.

Her hands tug at his shirt, pulling it from the waist of his pants, up and over his head to drop on the bed beside him. She moves in closer, her teeth nipping at his collarbone, not breaking the skin.

But, as always with her, the threat is there. “Move against the headboard,” she commands, batting his hands away to undo the ties of her skirt herself. The red fabric falls to the ground, leaning her in the shift and corset she wears. “Shoes off, first.”

Mi amante is a new one certainly. It’s usually the Major, or just Jasper. Or you, if she can even bother at all.

But mi amante makes him feel impossibly hot, his want for her intensify.

He wants to be, yes.

Jasper kicks of his boots and then scoots back on the bed as requested.

He’s still watching her worshipfully, his gaze now roving along the curves the corset hugs her in all the right places.

He licks his lips. Hungry, and not for blood, for once. A different kind of hunger. A kind that makes even Lucy and the vampire next door gasp again as it trickles out of him before he can reign it in.

His slip makes the room incredibly hazy for a moment, and she pauses in hitching her shift up, her knee pressed against the mattress.

Even her own desire had been tempered, before that, by her need to not be lost in it. To have a grip on herself, iron tight.

“Mierda,” she whispers, blinking back the heady desire as he reigns in his emotion. Maybe this won’t be so easy, after all.

Maria climbs over him, sitting herself in his lap, her hand at the base of his throat, the other tangling in his hair to pull his head back so she can kiss him again, hot, heavy, all tongue and teeth.

Her hand on his throat should scare him - he has seen what she can do to a man - and yet, he just meets her in the kiss. All tongue and teeth, hot and heavy, all his hunger and desire for her being made known in just the force of their kiss.

At least, he’s trying to keep it just between them. It’s a little difficult when the woman he’s been lusting after for however long is suddenly in his lap.

His hands slide around her to her behind, grabbing at her eagerly. He doesn’t know if he’s supposed to touch her - he doesn’t care.

Not now, when they’re finally like this.

Edited 2020-08-10 17:57 (UTC)

Her hips move, rolling her back into his hands, her fingers tight in his hair, pulling.

She’s not kind. Even now, even here with him. She doesn’t remember how to be kind without a hidden agenda.

And his emotions betray him, as much as they push into her. He’s wanted this—she isn’t blind. She isn’t stupid.

It’s a means to an end, Maria reminds herself, her hand leaving his throat to grab his wrist, to bring his hand to her breast, squeezing roughly until he gets the idea. Moving her hand between them once he does, fingers teasing at the waist of his pants.

Jasper pulls out of the kiss with a gasp, to stare at his hand on her breast, at the way her corset pushes her up, almost spilling out of the shift. And the way the garment shifts when he moves his hands, his thumb grazing her, gentle even though she wanted it rougher, and how he can pull it down enough to see -

He ducks his head, kissing at her collarbone, teeth scraping along before he buries his face between her breasts.

“Mierda,” he breathes, panting against her skin.

He feels like everything he feels for her will just explode out of him. He can tell he’s not holding it in very well. He’s struggling.

Her finger stroke his hair, gentler than any move she’s made so far; suddenly aware of how tenuous his grasp is, how if she wants to enjoy this, she may need to slow down.

“Lo siento,” Maria croons, pulling his head back so she can drag her fingers over his lips. “Podemos ir mas lento.”

She sits back in his lap, her hands deftly undoing her corset—why does she even bother, she wonders, with wearing it? Something to do with Lucy’s influences on her fashion choices, she’s sure.

Once the garment is undone, Maria shrugs out of it, tossing it across the room. Her hands find his again, guiding them under the shift, along her hips, waist, just under her breasts; voice a purr once more: “Touch me, Major.”

Jasper sucks in a breath to focus himself and he tries to block the other room out. The only thing that should matter to him is Maria. He’s been coveting her for some time, and now that’s he’s here, given this opportunity, he wants her to feel good.

He swallows hard and his fingers follow the soft curves of her breasts, just the barest of touches as he strokes at her skin.

“Es usted tan hermosa,” he murmurs. “Quiero darte lo que quieres.”

He’s sure she’s heard these words a thousand times, and he wants to be different for her. Wants to prove himself for her. That he can be different from the ones before.

He focuses a little of what he’s feeling into his touch as his fingers stroke gently over her.

Perhaps trying to bed an empath was not her smartest plan. His emotion threatens to take her over, make her crazy with the desire he feels for her.

Then again, maybe she can use this to her advantage as well.

Pulling her shift over her head, Maria leans forward, pressing herself against him, chest to chest, kissing along his jaw and chin, his mouth. “I want you,” she murmurs. “And I know you want me.”

“I didn’t know if you did,” he murmurs. He’d wanted, hoped, thought - he just never had a clear reading from her.

Even now her feelings seem vague to him.

But maybe that’s just his own feelings clouding him. (And what with Lucy and her vampire knocking the bed against the wall again too.)

He pushes her hair back off her shoulder to kiss her neck, her jaw, whatever he’s allowed, dragging his mouth across her skin.

“Difícil de perder la forma en que me miras,” Maria murmurs, chasing the direction of his mouth, turning his head to kiss him properly.

As she traces the swell of his bottom lip with her tongue, Maria rolls them, moving so he’s on top of her. Her hands slide down his chest, coming to a stop at the button of his pants, flicking it open to push them down. Still slow, but impatient, wanting him to be as bare as she is.

Jasper groans into her mouth and he helps her to shove his pants off with more impatience. He pulls back enough just to shove them off his legs, off the bed and then he’s looking at her, laid out underneath him.

He’s fantasized about her before, but this -

“ - Fuck, María.”

He descends again to kiss her, just as eagerly and just as impatient, to trail his teeth down her neck, and then to put his mouth to one of her breasts. His hand fondles the other, stroking her skin, thumb flicking across one pert tip as he sucks at the other.

He just hopes that whatever inexperience he shows is made up for by how he feels.

It's been too long since she's let herself enjoy a man. She's had others, since her mate died, but they were gone before the year finished--most of the time, less.

She chose Jasper for a few reasons. He is handsome, she's not blind. He looks at her in ways that make Lucy and Nettie titter behind their hands, teasing Maria over it, and she cannot deny that she doesn't like the attention.

And she has no plans to be rid of him any time soon. He's already proved himself so useful. What's wrong with adding one more use to him?

Already Jasper shows promise in this too. The enthusiasm making up for inexperience--and perhaps the time between sexual encounters making up for it too. She groans as his mouth and hand work her breasts, at how each pull of his lips sends heat gathering at her core. She can barely even parse out the knocking of Lucy's bed against the wall anymore.

Her hands find his hair again, clutching, holding him against her, her hips twitching upward against him. God, she wants to fuck him. Wants to be fucked. Wants it to last so she can enjoy it. Reminds herself of patience, a quality she has to have--she's so patient in war, she can be patient here too.

He pulls back just enough, his words a blur against her skin -

" - Can feel that."

And he shifts to trail his fingers down her body and press his palm to her lower stomach. He focuses carefully to stroke at the feeling, enhancing it.

"What you want, what you like," he continues in a murmur, almost rambling, before he puts his mouth to her breast again.

"Jesús Cristo," Maria hisses, her fingers tighten in his hair, nails scratching at his scalp. Her hips jump against his hand, at the feeling he strokes in the pit of belly.

She wants to roll him over, take him inside of her right this fucking second. She wants to let him do whatever he wants, she wants to take charge, Christ, he's making her go insane.

It'll be easier than she thought, though, to teach him. He's definitely a fast learner. An understatement.

He moves up her body, bringing his mouth back to hers in a hungry kiss.

He wants her so much, can feel how much she wants it, and it’s driving him to impatience. His hips roll against her to seek friction.

And just that -

“Fuck.”

- feels good.

Maria does roll them this time, settling herself with a hand against his shoulder, the other snaking down his chest until she reaches between his legs.

Takes him in hand, sliding her palm up and over, down again. Leaning forward, kissing him breathless, her teeth tugging on his bottom lip.

“Fuck,” she agrees, panting against his mouth. “Fuck me, Major.”

His hands automatically curl around her hips when she settles on top of him.

Her hand on him is fairly distracting, though. The slide of her palm against him. His gaze locks on it, hips thrusting upward seeking more.

“What - “

Well. He understands the basics, but - hand.

“Fuck.”

She laughs as she tosses her hair over her shoulder, lifting her hips to position him against her.

Knowing this won’t last long—but willing to let it go this time. She’s banking on stamina.

Maria sinks down onto him, hissing as she does so, letting herself adjust, her chin dropping to her chest.

“Shit—Jasper,” she gasps, settling back in his lap.

One sharp intake of air and then Jasper forgets how to breathe.

His hands tighten on her hips as she settles back and his hips shove up against her. Nothing more than a squirm, really. Trapped by the tight hold of her thighs, her legs.

It’s too good.

And she looks amazing. Her hair a dark curtain over her shoulder, the glow of her skin in the candlelight, the way her fingers settle on his chest, her breasts -

“Fuck,” he gasps out, his breath leaving him all at once. He tries to reign in his emotions but it’s just -

It’s too fucking good.

Maria rolls her hips forward, urged on at the emotions bleeding from him. The need and want, built up inside him.

Her own need and desperate desire to get off intermingling with it all.

“Muévete conmigo,” she mutters, her hand moving to graze his chin, to bring his attention to her words.

And he does, not about to disobey a command when given. Especially not about this, given and said like that.

When she rolls her hips again, he meets her with a thrust. His hands are steady enough on her hips, though his fingers twitch nervously against her, his gaze glued to where they’re joined.

He’s afraid of just - losing it. He gulps in a steadying breathe and meets another roll of her hips, and another.

His movements become more sure with each, with each spike of fire he feels from her as they meet each other again and again.

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