Under a Rogue Moon

Chapter 12-2

“You’re asking for trouble if you keep that up,” he whispered.

She pulled away, feeling coquettish as she ran her tongue over her lower lip. “Maybe that’s what I’m hoping for,” she replied.

A responding gleam appeared in Jason’s eyes, catching the light from the stars overhead. Before she could react, his hands had coiled through her hair, yanking her forward, yanking her so hard that she lost her balance and tripped, pushing both of them down to the hard ground. She landed atop him with his mouth already working over hers, fingers so tightly wrapped in her hair that every shift of their bodies brought tiny prickles of pain along her scalp. When she tried to move off, though, he just held her closer, going so far as to curl his leg around the back of her knee in order to make her stop.

“Don’t,” he managed between kisses. “Want you like this.”

“Like what?” Speaking was nearly impossible. Her pulse had skyrocketed at the urgency of his touch, and it stole what little breath he hadn’t.

“There.” He finally tore his mouth away from hers, gazing up at her with naked admiration. “Here. Don’t go.”

“I’ll smother you.’

His lips twisted into a half-smile. “Hardly.” When she shifted against his pelvis, he groaned at the new pressure, his hips thrusting just enough for his rock-hard c**k to grind against her mound. “Ride me.”

The suggestion was both exhilarating and terrifying at the same time. Using her strength, Flanna pushed away, back, sitting up so that she could look around at the deserted horizon. It also served to nestle his c**k firmly between her thighs, but that was almost secondary to her sudden need to make sure they weren’t being watched.

“You want to do it here?” she breathed.

Already his hands had left her hair, skimming down her arms and to the bottom hem of her shirt. “Yeah,” Jason replied. It was almost a growl, low and husky, and the look in his eyes left no doubt as to how badly he wanted it. “You were made for the moonlight, Flanna,” he went on. He was pushing up her top, fingertips leaving insistent trails across her flaming skin. “This is how I want to see you.”

It sounded like he’d been about to say something else, but Flanna dismissed it as a figment of her imagination. If this was what he wanted, this was what he was going to get. She was squirming simply at the thought of it.

Grabbing her shirt’s hem, she pulled it over her head in a quick, fluid motion, eager to be shed of her clothes now that the decision was made. Jason’s hands were at her breasts before she was free of it, tweaking the hard n*****s through the lacy bra before roughly pulling at the front fastening. She gasped when the first blast of air hit her bare skin; it had seemed much warmer when she was clothed. But the cold was quickly masked by the heat of his hands, and if there was any doubt that this wasn’t what he wanted, it was stamped into dust with the hungry pull of his fingers along her breasts.

“Your turn,” she said. The statement seemed to take Jason by surprise, but he didn’t fight her as she sat back further on his thighs, pulling his shirttails free so that she could unbutton it without hindrance. Her nails caught on his taut abdomen, but his sharp intake of breath made her hesitate.

“Do you like that?” she asked cautiously. Her eyes never left his face as she deliberately curled her hand into a claw and scratched along his side, up beneath his shirt until her index finger scraped across his flat n****e. There was no mistaking the quivering of his muscles, or the way his jaw dropped, or the way his eyes fluttered closed for the briefest of moments. When they opened again, any trace of blue was gone.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he rasped.

“Shouldn’t that be my line?”

Jason hissed as her fingers flew to unbutton the rest of his shirt. “If you push, I’ll push back. You have to know that.”

“I know.” Without warning, she fell forward, forcing him to move his hands from between their bodies. Brushing her hard n*****s across his exposed chest, Flanna shuddered at the slight contact, her breath coming quicker. “Maybe I want to be pushed.”

His hands dropped to her waist, nails rough against her skin as he forced them between their pelvises to reach the waistband of her sweats. He didn’t bother responding to her dare, silencing anything more from Flanna by drowning her in kisses again. That was all right. She didn’t feel like talking anyway. She wanted to be rid of the clothing that insisted on separating them, that kept her from feeling his sinewy muscles against her, in her, everywhere.

Somehow, her sweats came off, though afterward she was fairly certain that she was at least half responsible for them landing over six feet away. She even had enough focus to get the knife off, unwilling to risk hurting him in case it slipped from its sheath on her calf. That left only Jason’s jeans, and when she slithered down his body, her tongue trailing across hot skin the entire way, following his request and riding him was the furthest thing from her mind.

“Flanna…” His voice whispered in the wind, and she felt his muscles shift beneath her cheek as he propped himself up on his elbows. She didn’t risk looking up at him, though. There would be no staving the swell of desire once she saw it mirrored in his face.

She continued what she was doing, sliding her hands beneath the waistband of his jeans, cupping his ass as she forced him to lift his hips from the ground. His c**k jutted hard and long from the shadows between his thighs, and Flanna licked her lips as she pushed the denim out of her way. God, she wanted to taste him, wanted to feel him sliding in and out of her, wanted to hear Jason try to speak as she sucked him off. His queries about whether or not she was a screamer came drifting back. He was. There was no doubt about that.

“Flanna…” he tried again.

This time, when he tried to pull her back on top of him, she pushed back, knocking him off-balance so that his elbows roughed against the grass.

“Not yet,” she warned. She took his erection in her hand, pumped it once while keeping her eyes on his face. “You said you wanted me on top. Is that still true?”

“‘Course it’s true.”

That was all she needed to hear. Leaning in, Flanna flicked her tongue across the tip of his c**k, tasting the drop of fluid that was already welling there. When Jason bucked at the contact, she threw her leg over his chest and then slid down so that her exposed p***y hovered just inches above his mouth.

She froze. As a general rule, she didn’t sixty-nine, for the very reasons she’d first struggled about being on top. She wasn’t a small woman. No matter how big the guy she was with, there was always that lingering fear that she’d smother him, which she recognized as completely irrational but utterly uncontrollable. Just as there was a part of her that was terrified about what she was instigating, another part of her feared that Jason would reject her in this position. He wanted to be f****d. This could very well be a poor substitute.

“God, Flanna…” His hot breath across her p***y made her legs tremble, but the reverential tone of his voice drew the shivers through the rest of her body. Though she couldn’t see what he was doing, she could feel his shoulders shifting, arms moving, and then the lightest of touches across her outer lips. “You’re beautiful, you know that?”

The long sweep of his tongue tracing her opening shattered the last of her fear, and Flanna bent her head to suck the head of his c**k between her lips, closing her eyes as she lost herself to the double-ended sensations. He wasn’t just using his mouth. Jason’s declaration the previous night about all his plans for his mouth on her body had only been half right. He was using his hands, too, fingers following the path his tongue took, around her p***y, then in and out when he shifted his focus to her clit.

The first catch of her clit between his teeth made Flanna cry out, and she jerked away from where she’d been swallowing his c**k down as deeply as she could manage. The arching of her back ground her p***y against his face, but his hands held her firm, fingers sliding out of her passage to grasp the firm curve of her ass and keep her steady.

“Is that the best you can do?” he taunted. He was back to lapping at the fluids coating her slit, teasing her with more than just his words. “C’mon, Flanna. I know you can scream louder than that.”

Her breath was heavy in her chest, making it difficult to bow back down and grasp his c**k at the base. Tilting it back toward his legs, she made a show of licking up and down the shaft, trying not to let the quivering in her thighs get the better of her. Two could play this game.

Jason thrust his pelvis upwards, brushing the wet head of his c**k across her lips. “There are words for women like you,” he said between breaths.

She rubbed her cheek along his length. “If the word ‘tease’ comes out of your mouth,” she replied with a smile, “you can say good-bye to coming.”

“Now would I say something like that?”

“Certainly not because it’s true,” she murmured. Savoring the last velvet touch of him against her skin, Flanna shifted until his c**k was poised at her mouth again, her tongue darting out to trace around the head. The tang of his salty skin mingled with that dripping from the slit. The temptation was too much. In a swift motion, she lowered her mouth, feeling him slide in until the head nudged at the back of her throat, and then swallowed in order to take even more of him inside her.

His attack on her p***y was ferocious, all tongue and teeth and fingers. Though her sucking remained slow and deep, out of necessity more than anything else, Jason’s attentions grew increasingly vigorous. Fingers slid in and out of her while he exerted more and more pressure on her clit. When she thought she couldn’t be filled any more, something began rubbing around the tight bud of her ass, lubricating it with her own juices until that too was being filled, f****d just as thoroughly as her p***y.

Her nails sank into the sinew of his thighs as her climax surged inside her. Every time she thought it was going to crest and crash, Jason would alter his rhythm, dust a feathery kiss across her opening while his tongue took a vague detour. She knew his own orgasm was building as well; she could feel it in the twitch of his c**k, the uncontrollable thrusting of his hips as he sought to get even deeper into her mouth. She complied, though his length made it impossible to get it all in. She had to satisfy herself with long, hard swallows and her hand gripped tightly at the base to keep him steady.

Jason surprised her with a thick groan, and she felt the first hot splashes spilling at the back of her mouth. She swallowed on instinct, holding him still while his body vibrated beneath her. His hands froze while he came, but the moment it began to ebb, his teeth returned, clamping down on her sensitive clit with a sudden pressure that made her p***y spasm, made her body bow and threaten to break, made her scream unintelligible cries that left her drained and shaking.

Her skin was slick where it adhered to his, and it took all her power to peel away from him, to lose the hot power of his muscles beneath her, but she had to, had to turn, to face him, kiss him, wrap her arms around his neck while she rolled them onto their sides. She had to.

They kissed for what felt like forever, the taste of her on his lips just as she knew he could taste himself with every sweep of his tongue. Neither spoke when they broke apart. She just burrowed into his shoulder and closed her eyes as his fingers sketched plush designs along her back. They would talk later.

* * * *

He watched them from a distance, surprised that Randolph didn’t notice his presence. He hadn’t expected to find them out; Romm knew that they’d found the old lady in time to save her life. The cops were on the lookout for an American, so he figured that Randolph would stay holed up until it was safer to emerge from hiding. He should have known better. Randolph wasn’t the type to stay away from risks; hell, f*****g the demonhunter proved he had balls of steel.

It wouldn’t be enough to save him in the long run.

Though Flanna’s scent made him hard and horny, Romm didn’t stick around for the show after he saw her straddle Randolph’s face. Wrong view for the potential risk. Given the choice, he would rather watch the b***h get her cunt eaten out, not see her blow Randolph. Of course, he’d much rather be f*****g her, but the odds of that happening were slim to none now. Dominic knew a losing proposition when he saw it.

Still, killing her would be satisfaction enough. There was less than two weeks until the full moon. By the time it was all over, she would die after having seen everybody she cared about torn limb from limb.

Jason Randolph just got added to the list.