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Moon rolls over on Jason's bed in the Circus, smiling as she watches him pulling on a pair of jeans. She's wearing one of his shirts, her feet kicking idly behind her, and she nuzzles the blankets. They smell most of Jason, a little of her, and she likes that.
"I want to come too," she says, her words muffled by the blanket. "I want to see what it's like."
It's an innocent curiosity, because Damian had said it was nothing like when she'd given her blood to Santino. She wants to see that, to watch, to understand what it is that Jason, Liz, and Nathaniel like so much and Richard and Anita rail against.
"I want to come too," she says, her words muffled by the blanket. "I want to see what it's like."
It's an innocent curiosity, because Damian had said it was nothing like when she'd given her blood to Santino. She wants to see that, to watch, to understand what it is that Jason, Liz, and Nathaniel like so much and Richard and Anita rail against.
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She can be ruthless in her desire to hear him make the same sort of noises.
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It gives both his hands better access, and they waste no time in snaking back under her shirt. His throat vibrates under her lips with a soft growl. "Not pulling any punches, are you?"
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"No," she pants, flinging her hair over her shoulder just before she takes a kiss from him. His mood is contagious, and the kiss is not sweet and gentle, but teeth and lust.
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His hands wrestle for a moment with the fabric before he pulls his hands back out and starts to undo the buttons, the sharp, jerky movements ceasing only after the shirt is pulled from her arms and tossed to the floor. He slides his hands up her stomach to cup her breasts, kneading them as his mouth feeds at hers.
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She leaves his lips, mouth moving over his throat again. Moon licks broadly over the mark Jean-Claude left behind, and then moves lower, kissing and nipping at his collarbones. She doesn't like the barrier of denim between her, and she whines as her hips press down, making her displeasure known without removing her mouth from his flesh.
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"Do you want something?" he asks in a sultry growl.
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"I will never understand the need for covering up with annoying cloth," she growls.
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"So I can watch you get all worked up over getting them off," he murmurs deeply.
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Even as she says it, she knows it's untrue. A particularly enjoyable touch of his hands makes her pause, shiver, and then she yanks the jeans down to mid-thigh. She repositions herself, panting, and bites lightly at his chin.
"I don't like clothing."
As if he didn't already know that. She shifts her hips and slides down him, taking him inside her, and her eyes flutter closed as she lets out a musical moan against his throat.
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She's quick to slide onto him, and it pulls a full-throated groan from him. "God, Moon..."
His hips arch slightly, making him shift inside her. His stomach muscles bunch as he raises his mouth to her breast, his tongue and teeth taking turns working over the soft skin there as his hands abandon their task to help guide her hips.
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There is a lot of squirming atop him, heat rushing through her. She always feel as if her mind is in a million pieces, but when she's with him like this, it feels more like her body is.
After a moment of intense sensation washing through over her, she begins to rise and fall on him. She closes her eyes, concentrating on the feel of him between her thighs, pressed to her chest, and hovering on the edge of her mind.
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He's usually the one on top, and while he enjoys that immensely, there's something to be said for watching her take her own pleasure from him.
He nuzzles his face between her breasts again. "Do you like this?" his voice is little more than a deep, vibrating growl.
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"Yes," she says, her voice breathy. "Do... do you?"
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He leans back with a dark smile, hands splaying out and sliding over her chest and hips. "Faster...please; let me watch you come, Moon."
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And she, by no means, restricts her voice or its volume.
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He watches her, lips half parted and not even trying to restrain his own vocalizations. He's getting off just fine from seeing her take her own pleasure from him.
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Pressure builds within her as she moves faster, hands now braced on his shoulders. Moon feels herself near that peak of pleasure, and she gasps, hovering there for just a moment longer.
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He feels her body tightening around him, sees her gasp and falter in her rhythm, stopping just shy of climax. He gives a high groan through his labored breaths, his hands tightening on her hips.
"Go," his rough voice manages through the smile on his lips, "Just go..."
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If she draws blood, so much the better.
He hasn't come himself yet, but for the moment he's content to watch her take hers and enjoy the feel of her above him. When it seems she's hit the peak of her orgasm, he rocks forward, wrapping his arms around her as he lets his momentum carry him forward to lean over her. He wastes no time pulling her legs higher up on his waist and thrusting himself into her, hard and fast.
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But thank God, Moon is who she is, and he can be what he is.
He cries out sharply as his hips jerk sharply against her, pressing into and against her as far as he can go. He doesn't move for a moment, then draws back slightly only to thrust himself once more into her with a desperate cry, spilling himself inside her.
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"My wolf," she practically purrs.
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He nuzzles at her hair, breathing deeply and happily. "My Lady," he murmurs.
Then he laughs again, arms tightening around her. "You are fucking amazing."
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"Because I smoosh?"
She's been under the impression the women in Jason's life boink him, so she's not sure where the amazing bit comes in.
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