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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His breath hitches at the touch of her hand on him again. His body reacting, even through the pain that still has him clenching his jaw.

But her words -

"Sí, soy tuyo," he manages, "Yo siempre he sido tuyo.."

He takes a deep breath, trying to focus on the pleasure again, his hips starting to move into her hand than inch away.

"¿Me vas a morder otra vez? ¿Esto va a ser una cosa?"

He just - If it is - he can at least prepare himself for it.

She hums, noncommittal as she continues to stroke him, leaning in to kiss his lips, chin. A quick press of her lips against the mark she's left behind--it's already healing, silvery in the candlelight instead of puckered.

Another kiss at his hipbone as she moves down his body, each movement measured and careful, making sure he's not skittish under her. Which, surely he is. She finds she cares more than she wants to.

"Let me make it up to you," Maria whispers, her tongue flicking out to lick the tip of him. Swirling it around him, letting him sink between her lips, just a little.

Her noncommittal hum is unsettling. He'd rather she just say.

And so he is skittish under her, his muscle tense with each kiss as she makes her way down her body. He even startles a little when she licks at him and puts her mouth on him.

He swallows hard, watching her carefully.

" - Okay."

Maria is diligent in all things. Even this, even when this started as a way for her to unwind.

But it does her little good if the man she's trying to bed is scared of her--he's usually scared of her, to be fair--so she'll take her time again, making up for the bite she gave him.

Though, she won't apologize for it; it makes her feel some sort of new wickedness.

She presses his length against his stomach, licking him from root to tip, her forehead pressing against his abdomen. Resting there, she takes him fully into her mouth, working her way down, her fingers circling him at the base, holding him in place as she lifts her head and then slides back down, groaning around him.

His body certainly responds quicker than his mind in forgetting the pain of her bite.

A wave of pleasure taking him over when she takes him in her mouth.

“Shit.”

His head bumps back against the headboard with a thunk, and his fingers twitch before he buries them in her hair.

A rational part of him tries to remind him of the pain, but -

He glances down, watching the way her lips stretch around him.

- fuck rationality.

Her hand and mouth move in tandem, working him, bringing him closer and closer to the edge. She'd forgotten the power in this--how he's putty in her hands, nothing but gasps and groans and curses above her.

Maria pulls off of him, her hand still moving up and around and over him. "Dime--te gusta eso?"

Her voice is hoarse, husky, from the weight of him on her tongue, in her throat. She doesn't wait for an answer, instead swallowing him back down.

“Yes,” Jasper gasps out, fingers tightening in her hair.

He vaguely wonders how many times she’s done this. How many vampires she’s bit and then put her mouth to after. He thinks he should care - that rational part of him again, warning him.

And he should certainly worry about his time with her, he’s seen already what happens when a newborn is no longer of use. But, he doesn’t. He’ll worry about it later. He’s been good at staying alive so far.

And right now -

“Fuck, Maria.”

- he just wants.

Moving fast, Maria pulls away from him, hand at his shoulder to tug him up, moving them so she's laying on her back, him over her.

"Fuck me," she hisses, arching up into him, her hand wrapping around him again, pressing him against her entrance. "Vamos de prisa, Jasper."

Jasper thrusts in, and hardly gives her a moment before he pulls out and does it again.

One hand grips the headboard above them, fingers digging into the simple wood structure, and the other curls around her hip, hitching her leg higher as fucks into her. A little erratic, no set and steady pace, just hard and fast.

Each thrust pushes the air out of her lungs, her hands coming to grip the headboard above her, hands next to his as she meets his hips thrust for thrust.

Her leg, tight around his waist, the other with her foot planted against the mattress for leverage. She feels impossibly full, tight, with him fucking her into the bed.

One hand uncurls from the headboard, reaching for him, coming to rest at the back of his neck. Maria gasps, her head falling back, "Besame, mi amante, come here."

Jasper immediately complies, kissing her deeply, licking his way into her mouth as his hand drops away from the headboard, to the bed.

His fingers dig into the mattress, tearing at it, as he then shifts, changing the angle of his thrusts.

And then his pace is relentless. He’s barely kissing her then, just heavy puffs of breath against her lips as fucks her in an earnest, the bed knocking into the wall with enough force that it leaves chinks in the plaster.

It's slightly ridiculous that she still has time to think hah, take that, Lucy in the midst of being fucked into the mattress like this. The thought flits, chased away by the relentless slam of his body into hers, the steady thud of the headboard against the wall.

She chose wisely tonight, and congratulates herself on that. Maybe, in making him wait (because of course, she'd thought of this before, of him in her bed, how could she not with the way his eyes follow her everywhere?), she made this better. He wants her so badly.

Maria gasps, her hands falling from his shoulders to tangle in the sheets, arching herself up against him, meeting his frantic thrusts with ones of her own. The angle he's chosen, it makes her cry out with every hit, whine and gasp and wail as he moves.

Jasper is certainly not thinking about Lucy or Nettie or anyone else in the house. His momentary worries and Maria’s bite too are just a dull ache now.

He’s pure want in the moment, and every cry and gasp from Maria just urges him on. His thrusts are sure and relentless as he picks up on her pleasure, at the way the changed angle produces more of it.

He pulls the tendrils of it taut, just like he did when he went down on her. He wants her to come undone again. Only he doesn’t want her cry muffled this time. He wants her loud.

"Pendejo," Maria hisses, her hands flying back to the headboard to ground herself even a little bit as he messes with her want and desire. Her leg kicks out before wrapping around his hip.

The wood cracks under her fingers and--she stiffens, arching up into him, as she comes undone, her body quaking, pulsating around him and she is loud, this time. Cursing, groaning, crying out.

"Fuck."

“Ah, shit,” he gasps, the words torn from him as if he’d been holding back until she cried out as loudly as she did.

He feels strangely relieved by it too, if only for a second, and then the weight of her emotions wash over him, and his hips snap to hers with a few more thrusts before he cries out, following her over the edge.

He eventually collapses against her, breathing heavily, body shaking, even though it’s more the weight of emotions than true exhaustion. She probably won’t let him stay like this for long, he knows, even with as relaxed and satisfied as she feels under him, and so his lips find hers in a messy kiss, dragging out the little moment for as long as he can.

She kisses him back, eagerly, tongue sliding against his as her hands roam his back, fingers tracing the length of his spine. For a moment, she can enjoy this: the weight of him against her, the taste of him.

For a moment.

Maria frames his face with her hands, pulling him away from her lips, a smirk forming. "Un aprendiz rápido, hmm?" She purrs, darting forward to lick at his bottom lip. "Buen trabajo, Major.

"Ah, mi amante," she amends, dragging him back in for another kiss, just as messy as the last.

“Encontré el tema que valía la pena aprender,” he murmurs in between the meeting and parting of their lips.

And he only pulls away to put his lips to her skin again, his hands roving down her body. He doesn’t want to stop touching her.

“I’ll be your anything. Whatever you need, whenever you need it.”

She lets him linger, his hands on her body. He makes her feel alight with desire and want, hunger for something other than war.

A conquest in its own right.

"I'll be holding you to that," Maria murmurs, arching into his hands, stretching under him.

“Sí, espero que así sea.“

He makes his way down her chest, fingers and lips ghosting along her curves. Not in hunger or desire, but simply to touch. Since she’s allowing it, for now, and when might be his next chance?

“Tendrá lo que me pide.”

Maria pushes her hand through his hair, studying him as he moves across her body. He's so content, to just touch her.

When was the last time someone didn't want something else from her, immediately after sex? Immediately before? Jasper only wants her.

She's unsure how to handle it. Her knee jerk reaction is to shove him off, to start poring over maps for their next conquest. She wants to do that.

She wants him to stay, to distract her throughout the night.

Her fingers slide to curl under his chin, tilting his head up to look at her. "Ven aca."

Jasper can feel her indecision. He assumes it be restlessness. She’s not the type to remain content in one place for too long.

He knew this part - the quiet - would come to an end soon.

He presses a lingering kiss to her belly before her fingers curl under his chin and she forces him to look at her.

“¿Qué?” he asks softly, trying to keep any disappointment from his tone or his gaze when he looks at her.

He’s a little worried that he’s about to be sent away. It sounds like Lucy has already ditched her partner. He’s not sure when that happened, but the other room is quiet now.

Her thumb plays with his bottom lip. There’s a scar on her hand, where her thumb meets her hand. A reminder of one of the few times she let her focus fail her.

Her gaze slides to the new mark she’s given him tonight, turmoil churning in her, but she shakes it off. Plays with his lip a little more.

“I’m not going to chase you off,” Maria settles on saying. “In fact—perhaps you can help me with strategizing—“

She breaks off, changing her mind as she says it, reaching for his shoulder to tug at him. “Later. Kiss me again.”

Well. Jasper is certainly glad he’s not being chased out of the bed just yet. His grin reveals as much.

And strategizing? He’d definitely be happy to help.

But, later.

He kisses her stomach again first.

“Whatever - “

Then higher, between her breasts.

“ - you - “

Her neck.

“ - want.”

Before capturing her lips again in another kiss, finally.

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1863, Texas

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