Jasper (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
keptherwaiting) wrote2020-10-02 07:10 pm
keptherwaiting) wrote2020-10-02 07:10 pm
2023 - Near Paris, France
Four hours outside of Paris in a eighteenth-century stone-built farmhouse is where the Whitlocks have been living for sixth months in blissful, post-second wedding (or vow renewal, depending on the view) bliss.
Jasper enters the said house late in the overcast afternoon and hears Alice on the phone with Esme. The separation has been harder on her than it has on him, he knows. He can sense her sadness now as she talks to Esme, but he also knows she’s been happy too. It’s strange, being away from their family for such an extended time, but also - good. They need this, and the timing was finally right.
He tries to give her the semblance of privacy as she finishes her call - or as much privacy as a vampire with super hearing can - and hums softly to himself as he washes the grime from his hands. He’s been working on one of the more derelict barns on the 28 acres they now own and it isn’t a very clean job.
Jasper enters the said house late in the overcast afternoon and hears Alice on the phone with Esme. The separation has been harder on her than it has on him, he knows. He can sense her sadness now as she talks to Esme, but he also knows she’s been happy too. It’s strange, being away from their family for such an extended time, but also - good. They need this, and the timing was finally right.
He tries to give her the semblance of privacy as she finishes her call - or as much privacy as a vampire with super hearing can - and hums softly to himself as he washes the grime from his hands. He’s been working on one of the more derelict barns on the 28 acres they now own and it isn’t a very clean job.
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His gaze meets hers only briefly before he gives in to his need to have her. A delicate swipe of his tongue at her core to begin with before he moans and pleasures her like they both want.
And he knows exactly how she likes it, what can have her gasping and moaning and bring her to the brink quickly. And he knows when to back off, leaving her panting and pleading because she was right there - Jesus Christ, Jasper - just to draw it out and build her back up again.
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It’s a tumultuous game of push and pull from her husband and her own treacherous powers; exciting and desperate and driving her insane. She hates it. She loves it, she loves him.
Alice kicks one leg out in frustration, her heel digging sharp into the mattress as she whines, her fingers plunging into his hair finally, to twist and pull.
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“Had enough?” he asks in a murmur, panting against her skin as he paints with her leg with kisses.
He’s as worked up as much as she is, truly, pressing his hips to the mattress to relief the pressure there, and yet he could keep going, toying and teasing at her.
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He bites at her thigh, kisses it, and she nearly comes undone from that alone. Her tongue darts out to wet her lips, her throat dry, her whole body aching.
Alice whimpers, nodding and pressing her head back into the bed, hips trying to shift upward again. “Jasper, please.”
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Jasper bites at her her thigh once more before he slides her leg over his shoulder. Her hips are drawn away from the pillow, lifted off the bed just a little, as he puts his mouth to her center again and laps at her eagerly.
She’s so worked up still that it doesn’t take long to bring her to the brink, curling his tongue in her just so as she reaches it once more.
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It’s so easy to bring her right to the edge again, when she’s been desperate seconds away from it over and over again.
When she comes, falls over that precipice, finally, it’s silent for a long moment as her entire body tensed under his tongue. Her breath holds in her lungs and she feels like she could burst until it escapes her in one long exhale, followed by a moan that would disturb neighbors if they had any.
“Fuck,” Alice gasps out, her muscles jumping, making her legs twitch, her knee knocking Jasper’s ear as her legs try to close again, against the onslaught of finally.
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He lays her back gently then, crawling up to blanket her with his body, his face pressed into the crook of her neck as he drinks in all her emotions.
His own desire is heavy against her, but he makes no move to draw attention to it. Jasper just continues to breathe in her scent, her emotions, and laughs.
“You trying to take my head off with that knee of yours?”
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It takes a moment, a long one, where she mostly just concentrates on breathing before she’s able to roll over onto her side and cup his face. “Well, you still seem to be in one piece, so if taking your head off was my plan, it didn’t work.”
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His words are muffled against her skin as he says, “Mm, for now, maybe. One day you’ll just knock it clear off and won’t that be awkward?”
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She’s more aware now, though. Of his lips against her hand, the press of his erection against her leg. She shifts slightly, drawing attention to him. “I’ll keep my knees in line next time, mon amour.”
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“I don’t really mind. Knock me around with ‘em, strangle me with your thighs,” he rambles, words muffled still as he nibbles at the shape of her palm and down to her wrist. “You can do whatever you want to me, darlin’.”
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Humming softly, an affirmation of his words, Alice dips forward and presses a kiss to his forehead. “I love you.”
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Instead Alice rolls onto her side, her palm gliding along his skin, a ghost of a touch, just barely there, even as he moves into it.
“Remember that,” she whispers, giggling softly as she watches him kiss and nip at her wrist. “Remember that you love me, when I’m getting payback.”
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“Fucking temptress is what you are,” he complains when he pulls off her wrist. “No, I know, I deserve it. Fuck, you’re so sexy, though.”
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She rearranged them, so he’s on his back, and she’s hovering over him, her mouth trailing down his neck.
Her tongue traces the thickest cluster of scars at his throat, slowly following every mark blindly—she knows them by heart now anyway.
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Which is quite difficult, and Jasper is a fighter.
His hands move to her hips and then down and around to her ass.
“We could just fuck again,” he attempts to persuade his wife as he bucks up against her.
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Her eyebrow raises, challengingly, as she lifts her hands from his, testing to see if he’ll stay put.
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He pouts. Which is not as great as his wife’s pout but he can pull it off pretty well too.
“What, no touching at all?”
He pushes up and onto his elbows so he can nudge her nose with his and press a fleeting kiss to her lips.
“Is that a command, ma’am?”
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Rolling her hips gently—too gently, barely there—against his obvious need, Alice sighs softly, her eyes alight with mirth. “It is—but if you can’t listen, I can go.”
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Jasper groans at the barely there touching and he has to grip at the mattress, tearing little divots into the sheets and it, muscles straining, to keep from grabbing her by those tempting little hips.
“I’m listenin’,” he promises in a pant.
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Kissing along the bone, she tightens her fingers at his thighs, drawing idle shapes with the point of her tongue.
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Jasper closes his eyes and huffs a laugh when he tries to concentrate on the nonsensical patterns instead of the sensation of her tongue against his skin.
“Was that - Was that supposed to be a fish?”
His chest is heaving from unneeded breaths and his fingers dig further into the mattress. He wants nothing more than to bury his hands in her hair and guide her to where he wants her so desperately to focus.
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She’s hyper aware of him all around her—the shaky breaths he draws in, the tremor in his hands when he presses them against the bed, wanting to reach for her. His very evident desire, heavy against his stomach, when she turns her head to the left.
There’s a long moment—mere seconds in reality—where she considers what’s next. But her own overwhelming desire to taste him wins over and she drags her nose along his skin until she’s reached the tip of him, resting against his belly, tongue darting out to taste him, but nothing more.
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He groans, and he very nearly reaches for her then, fingers flexing in the air at the last moment.
He curses and squirms under her, dragging a hand through his own curls instead.
“Just - I promise to never tease you again.”
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