Title: When I Think About You
Fandom: The Hollows
Disclaimer: I don't own them.
Summary: A lazy afternoon gets Rachel in a bit of trouble.
Don't, I told myself sharply, my hand twitching where it hung over the edge of the couch. Don't, my mental voice repeated more forcefully as I drew my arm from where it was hanging over the couch and flung it across my torso. Don't, I thought desperately, willing my hand to stop moving as my fingers slowly slid up my torso to cup my breast through the thin tank top I was wearing. Oh god, I'm going to! I thought wildly as my hand ran over my breast, teasing my nipple to stiffness under the dual barrier of tank top and bra. Fuck, the word was drawn out luxuriously in my mind, thick and delicious like it was made of milk chocolate.
My hand trailed down to my waist, and then slipped under the material covering my mid-section, and then it moved unerringly up, my fingers slipping under my bra and restlessly pushing it up until I was palming my small breast.
I sighed softly, my eyes fluttering shut as a deep throb registered between my legs and my nipple pebbled beneath the tips of my fingers. I breathed in deeply. The scent of incense and ash flowing into me, making my mind sing. Ivy. I moaned, the sound of her name in my mind sending the most delicious tingles through my body, causing liquid heat to pool between my legs. Oh god, the couch smelt like Ivy. She had been lounging in it most of the previous night as I worked in the kitchen preparing spells. Things had been strained between us, since she had kissed me in the sanctuary and one of the ways we had taken to dealing with each other was to talk through walls. We'd had a good talk the other night, a nice light, friendly conversation. Ivy had been watching a show, and was keeping a running commentary for me from the living room as she watched. I had puttered around the kitchen, preparing my spells, occasionally yelling back questions and meeting her dry, witty observations with some of my own. She laughed occasionally, sometimes at something that happened on screen, sometimes at something I said, and sometimes at something she said – which made me smile every time. It'd been the best night we'd had in a while, and it crushed me that the only reason it'd been able to happen was because we had stayed in different rooms.
'All or nothing, Rachel…'
Ivy's gray silk voice whispered inside of my brain, her mental voice heavy and wet with want.
My hand slipped from under my shirt, and bringing my other hand into play I began to wrestle with the button at the top of my jeans, and then with my zipper. I breathed in deeply, taking in Ivy's scent again. Her prolonged stay on the couch the night before seemed to have allowed her scent to entrench itself in the plush, expensive material and I couldn't stop trying to take her in.
My scar started to tingle, and my hand twitched as I slipped my fingers beneath my parted jeans, my body shivering as my fingers played over the damp material of my panties. God, I'm soaked, I thought, a soft whimper coming from my throat. I'd been trying not to think about Ivy all day, but in trying not to think about her I'd ended up doing nothing but thinking about her, and by the time I'd collapsed on the couch, I almost didn't remember what it was like to not have thoughts of Ivy floating in the periphery of my brain.
'But if you try to manipulate me into biting you again…'
Ivy was purring in my voice again, and my fingers moved between my legs, rubbing the slick crotch of my panties hard and slow, tension coiling in my stomach at every new wet stroke.
My eyes closed, and once the familiar landscape of the living room was lost to me, I could feel Ivy's body behind me, her arms wrapped around me tightly, too tightly, delicious possessive. I shuddered, and began to move my fingers more quickly, my desire sky rocketing at the remembered feel of her. God help me, I thought. She had felt so good pressed up against my back, her full breasts pushing against my skin, her breath on my ear as she whispered to me with that voice. That warm, silken voice than ran over my skin, teasing my most sensitive areas like the whisper of a ribbon over skin. Her voice was sex itself, and my free hand found its way under my shirt and back up to my breasts.
'…I'm going to assume you're taking me up on my offer, and I'll meet you with all of me…'
Her words had been a warning, and a threat, but also a promise. Dangerous and seductive, her remembered words curled around my mind like warm fingers around my breast. My scar blazed, my hips canted up, my fingers working quickly, rubbing in an almost frenzy. With all of me, I thought deliriously. Oh God, that had only been a taste. What I had experienced on the floor of the sanctuary had only been a taste of what she could do to me, what she could make me feel, what she could make me long for. Only a taste. I shuddered and jerked my hand out of my jeans only to slip it between my legs again, slipping my fingers beneath my panties so that I was touching myself directly.
My fingers moved with a speed that was almost beyond my control. I could feel them, drawing my pleasure higher and higher, but it was as if my arm had a mind of its own. I gave it free reign, and my eyes closed, an image of Ivy's beautiful oval face sharpening in my mind. Saw her short, stylish cut black hair and wanted to run my fingers through the silky locks. I remembered running my fingers through her hair in the back of Kisten's van. It had been longer then, but I knew that the length would not take away from the incredible feel of it.
I saw her lips in my minds eye, and remember the feel of them pressed against my own. I had been so shocked to find myself being kissed by her, and I now cursed my brains slow processing. I had missed out of seconds of her kiss not realizing what was happening. I had missed out of seconds of memory, of the sensation of soft lips against my own. I remembered the feel of her tongue, flicking against my lips and imagined her tongue sliding between her lips to lick me in a decidedly more intimate area. My hand was a blur between my legs. My muscles were strained, my thighs burning as my hips remained poised in the air while my arm pumped tirelessly, rapidly and forcefully drawing my fingers over my clit again and again.
I'm going to come, I thought, my heart thundering almost painfully in my chest. I was thinking about Ivy, and I touched myself, and now I'm going to come. My lips parted, my head thrashed to the side. Ivy. My center quaked. Ivy. My back arched. Ivy. My muscles tensed. Ivy. I came, a ragged breath of air escaping me as pleasure leaked from me, my insides quivering as my fingers continued to jerk between my legs.
I collapsed against the couch, my hand resting between my legs as all strength drained from my body. So, I'd just masturbated to a monster orgasm thinking about my roommate and best friend. Swell. That was just, swell.
I lay still, breathing heavily for a minute and I felt some strength begin to return to my body. My eyes opened wide as I suddenly remembered where I was and I hastily jerked my hand from between my legs and sat up, looking around. The church was still around me. I was alone … for the minute. Oh god, I thought, panic beginning to rise me. I breathed in deeply, trying to calm myself down and immediately realized my mistake. The air around me smelled like sex, sex and Ivy and I felt my scar quiver at the realization, a dull throb echoing it's excitement between my legs. Oh fuck! Oh god! I had just masturbated on the couch! Masturbated on the couch thinking about Ivy! Fuck! What the hell was wrong with me?
I flung my legs over the edge of the couch and sat up. Pushing myself up onto my feet I reached for my jean, stopping just before I touched the top of them with my damp fingers. Jesus! My entire palm and some of my wrist was wet. I lifted my hand, looking around me in a near panic wondering how the hell I was going to clean up my hand and do up my pants. My hand drifted up further, and I managed to halt its progress just before my fingers touched my lips.
The kitchen! I thought, that's where I needed to go. There was water, and soap and towels there. A little water clears us of this deed, I thought stumbling towards the kitchen. The words weren't mine, they were remembered from a book … no, a play I had read in High School. I couldn't remember the title, but we'd been studying it as part of a unit on intolerance, in this case humanities history of hatred and mistrust of witches. I remembered lots of scrubbing, lots and lots of scrubbing and then insanity. Water hadn't done the lady in that play much good, and with a sinking feeling I figured that it would probably be equally ineffective with me, but I pushed forward.
I made it to the sink, and sighed as cool water cascaded over my warm, sticky hands. That was better, I was calming down already. Nice, soothing, relaxing cold water. My heart beat began to slow down, and my head began to clear. The panic that had taken me over when I realized what I had done, and where I had done it started to fade, and after soaping my hands I turned off the tap, dried my hands on a nearby dish towel and then I braced my hands against the counter and let my head fall forward as I sighed deeply. I was in Ivy's 'count to ten' spot, and I hoped that it would work better for me than it usually worked for her.
I sucked in a deep breath, and my eyes fluttered closed. I had just … thinking about Ivy, I had just … and it was good. It was good in that deeply satisfying way coffee was when you had been craving it, longing for it, yearning for it all day yet had been unable to actually bring a cup full to your lips and take a deep, long sip.
I pushed off against the kitchen counter and turned around so that my ass was resting against the edge of the counter. I moved my hands to the top of my pants and buttoning them and then zipping them up. So, Ivy was coffee and I'd wanted to drink her for a while. Swell.
Pushing away from the counter entirely I made my way towards the back for the kitchen and opened up all of the windows in there, before I walked into the living room and did the same thing. Once the windows were opened, I spun on my heel and turned towards the door. I needed to go to my room and get some scented candles to burn. Kisten had burned candles to get rid of the scent of us that first time we'd had sex and it had worked at covering the smell from Ivy until I'd made her suspicious and she'd scented the room looking to find something suspicious.
I retrieved two candles, and placed one in the kitchen and one in the living room. I would have liked to use more, but I didn't often burn candles and if Ivy walked in to find a dozen candles blazing in her kitchen she would get suspicious.
I slumped down into my chair at Ivy's large wooden table.
I rested my arm on the top of the table and then rested my head on top of it.
Shit, shit, shit … shit.
Lifting my head slightly, I propped my chin on my arm and stared across the table, my eyes locking on Ivy's lap top where it rested across from me. I closed my eyes and imagined Ivy sitting there across from me, her long, trim fingers tapping softly at the keys, as she crossed her long legs with a grace and elegance that still stunned me after a year living together.
My stomach clenched, and a wave of warmth washed over me. I spread my fingers out, allowing them to brush against the smooth wooden surface of the table, and I wished that it was Ivy's smooth skin under my fingertips instead of cool, unfeeling wood.
I heard the door to the church open and close. No sound followed it, but that didn't alarm me. It just meant that Ivy was home. Still slumped over the table I turned my head to the side, my eyes focused on the door to the kitchen and I waited.
"Hey," I said a few seconds later when Ivy's tall, dark, lanky frame appeared in the doorway.
"Hey," she said softly, her eyes scanning me keenly before she turned her head to look at the candle burning on the center Island. Her eyebrows creased slightly, and her gaze moved behind me to the open window at my back. She stared at them for a moment, then her lips parted as if she were going to speak, however she seemed to change her mind and instead of speaking she breathed in.
I sighed deeply and allowed my eyes to drop to the floor. I sucked so incredibly badly as acting natural. When I looked back up, Ivy was staring at me and I could tell from where I was sitting that her eyes were black. Her back was straight, her posture was tense and I knew that she had smelt my arousal, past and present.
"Ivy," I breathed out, lifting my head from the table top.
"Rachel," she breathed out, her voice a low rasp. "Was Kisten here?" she asked. She took in a deep breath, probably trying to calm herself, but quickly released it. Along with oxygen she'd taken in my scent again, and it was agitating her.
"No," I breathed out, knowing that she already knew he hadn't been. She would have been able to smell him if he'd been in the church in the last twenty-four hours, which he hadn't been. Whatever she smelt was all me, and we both knew it.
Ivy breathed out through harshly through her nose, her head beginning to tilt in the direction of the living room before she snapped it back around to face me.
"You couldn't have gone to your room?" she muttered darkly, irritation clear in her voice. "I'm not going to be able to go in there for the rest of the day."
I blushed and averted my eyes for a moment. I really hadn't planned on fingering myself on the couch, but my lack of intent didn't excuse the act. I should have gone to my room when the need overcame me, but part of that rush of intense desire had come from Ivy's scent on the couch, and my room didn't smell like her … yet.
"It … just kind of happened," I murmured chancing a glance over at her. When our eyes met she rolled hers dramatically, as if I was the first person ever … anywhere, to masturbate on a living room couch, and then she sighed.
"I forget to pick up a few things," she said after a moment of silence. She looked behind her towards the main door of the church, and I knew that she wanted to leave again to get away from my scent. She was speaking calmly, but her eyes were still black, and I knew that she was beginning to feel a little overwhelmed.
"I lied before," I said, drawing her eyes over to me. This was it. This was the time. I was getting out of control. Denial wasn't working, so I was going to try to do the adult thing and actually face my feelings. "I deliberately stayed on the couch."
Ivy stared at me for a moment, no doubt trying to figure out why I was sharing this particular piece of information with her. We never talked about our sex lives with each other, so talking about where I decided to pleasure myself was definitely against the norm.
"Always the risk-taker," Ivy murmured eventually, apparently deciding that I had stayed out in the open hoping to get caught. I didn't think that she was entirely wrong about that, but she was missing the most important part of why I had done what I did.
"That's not it," I said, licking my lips nervously. "You were lying on it for most of the night," I continued, my heart pounding in my chest. "It smelt like you," I sighed, a shiver running through my body at the memory and the admission. "I didn't mean to … touch. I just couldn't, not."
Ivy was absolutely still when I finished speaking. Not even her eyelids fluttered closed.
"What?" she finally breathed out, her voice strained as she continued to hold herself completely straight.
"I want a blood balance with you," I said leaning forward, locking my eyes on hers as I spoke. "I think I need it," I continued honestly, standing up as I spoke. "I'm ready for it all," I continued moving towards her slowly, not wanting to spook her. "No middle ground."
Ivy was still for a moment longer, and then she breathed in deeply, taking in the scent of my desire once more. Her body shuddered, and then her eyes closed and her head tilted back languorously. She stayed like that for a second, and then her head tilted forward again and her eyes opened, their black depths focused on me.
I began to move towards her and stopped only when I was standing so close to her that I could feel the heat of her body.
"I'm not afraid of wanting you anymore," I whispered.
"Show me," Ivy breathed out, her voice trembling as she looked at me like I was all seven wonders of the world rolled into one.
I placed my hand on her hip and then pressed up onto my toes. Ivy was taller than me, but not by much and if she was willing to move we could have met each other half way and removed the need for me to lean up, but she wasn't moving. She wasn't going to do anything to encourage me one way or the other. It had to be my decision, made of my own free will with no interference from her.
I wet my lips nervously, and then I pressed my lips against hers, kissing her softly. A tremble ran through my body at the first contact of our lips, and the hand I had resting lightly on her hip automatically wrapped around her waist, clutching her firmly. Ivy moaned into my mouth, and then she moved, her head dipping as wrapped her arms around me, deepening the kiss as I sighed into her mouth.
Warmth fluttered through me like the gossamer wings of a butterfly. Ivy. Her lips pulled away from mine and I breathed in deeply, trying to catch my breath as her lips traveled over my cheeks, my nose, my eyebrows and my forehead, before moving back down to my lips, brushing against them, her kisses fevered and light as an afternoon breeze.
"Ivy," I breathed out, angling my head to the side, offering my neck to her.
She shifted, and I felt soft strands of onyx hair capped by gold brushing against my jaw before her nose ran lightly across the column of my throat, breathing me in. "I need to touch you," Ivy whispered.
"I want you to," I told her, feeling my heart pound beneath my breast. "I need you to. I just finished, and I'm already aching for you again."
Ivy shuddered against me, and then a moment later I felt her lips press against the warm skin of my throat. My scar blazed, and my heart pounded, a soft, wanting sound escaping from me as she kissed my neck again. "Please," I breathed out. I couldn't stand to be teased anymore. We had teased each other for far too long already. I was on the edge, and I needed her inside of me.
I sighed as Ivy's fang slipped inside of me, my body going limp in her arms as ecstasy cascaded through me. My blood began to flow, and Ivy purred. Her hand slipped under my shirt, playing against my stomach, tracing the same patches of skin my own fingers had played against a half hour before. I moved my hand to cover hers, and Ivy tensed. I moved our hands up, pulling up the material of my tank top as we moved until both of our hands were covering my breast.
This, I thought as her tongue played against the rough edges of skin that had been punctured by her teeth. This, this, this, I thought deliriously as her hand slowly began to massage my breast, the pad of her thumb sweeping over my nipple again and again making my body blaze. This was what I needed, what I had craved, and yearned and ached for, this touching. Ivy touching me, me touching Ivy … this was it. This was perfection. This was … home.