Title: Blood and Chocolate

Summary: [Rashel/Quinn] Quinn has a taste for his soul mates blood mixed with chocolate. Kind of a continuation to A Day in the Life of Thierry Descouedres,

Rating: R (verging over)

Spoilers/Disclaimers: Snagged the title from Annette Curtis Klaus, Quinn and Rashel belong to L.J. Smith.

Order of series:

First: A Day in the Life of Thierry Descouedres[Thierry/Hannah]
Second: Blood and Chocolate [Rashel/Quinn]
Third: Pink [Poppy/James]
Fourth Story: Sweet Surrender [Delos/Maggie]
Fifth Story: Animal Instincts [Keller/Galen]
Sixth Story: Jezebel [Jez/Morgead]
Seventh Story: The Magic in You [Thea/Eric]
Eight Story: Witchin [Gillian/David]
Ninth Story: Come Together [Ash/Mare]

Part One:

He was lying beneath her, her strong thighs holding him in place, her hands wrapped around his forearms, pinning them to the blue workout mat on the floor, and her silky, long, black, cat-like hair hung down, the ends brushing his neck. Her piercing green eyes sparkled and her cheeks were flushed with heat as she smirked down at him.

She looked so alive when they did this. It was just like the first time, when they'd met and she started his blackened dead heart, like the equivalence of a crash cart.

God damn, she was sexy, he thought, loving the way the curve of her ass fit so perfectly against his hips.

They'd been doing these training sessions a lot lately and Quinn cherished the physical contact that didn't involve kicks and punches. As much as he would have liked Rashel to be a touch type of person she really wasn't. He always had to initiate the gentle physical contact. At one point he even found himself wondering if she was masochistic.

Rashel growled with obvious impatience, her green eyes darkening with frustration. "Are you going to give up so easily? Stop thought drifting!"

Quinn's bare, pale chest rippled as he shrugged and popped his hips upwards, causing her to bounce up and down against him. "I find myself liking the position."

"Of defeat?" she challenged, cocking an eyebrow in defiance, digging her nails into his forearms. "Well it's not my fault I kick your ass everyday. You're just a weakling."

He shuddered, managing to contain a groan of pleasure that was threatening to erupt as he felt her tiny finger nails digging deeper into his flesh. Maybe he was the masochist.

"Ha!" Quinn shouted, trying to sound offended and not at all turned on, "I was holding back."

"Oh please," Rashel scoffed tossing her head saucily, "you just can't admit that you were beat by a human," she smiled broadly.

Quinn smirked up at her arrogantly, his black eyes twinkling with happiness, hope welling in his chest, as he brought his hands up, resting them against her hips.

This black cat suit having a silky material has a better purpose than making her hard to catch, Quinn mused to himself.

Either she would stake him or take the bait. He gave her a pained expression when she wiggled to get his attention.

"Quinn! Get your mind out of the gutter or at least if it must stay there don't share over the link," Rashel growled half heartedly, moving to stand up, but seeing as that would ruin his plan of seduction, he reached forward and yanked her back into her previous position.

"It constantly stays there when you're around or haven't you noticed?" he chuckled, his fingers slipping down over her ass and squeezed, kneaded.

She jolted, surprise flashing on her face as she watched his eyelids half close. He gave a muffled grunt when his ministrations started her to move slightly. How quick his change in attitude was. When he started getting a little friskier she jerked away slightly. "Hands, hands!" she warned, reaching behind her to pull at said anatomy.

He laughed and watched in delight as it sent visible shivers throughout her body. Quinn took a breath when he watched her pink full lips part slightly and her green eyes darken to a pine color. That look excited the hell out of him.

Rashel was worried. He had that look, she knew that look, it was a predatory lust filled one, it made her stomach burn, and caused her toes to attempt a curl. He'd showed her this look many times and it made her want to throw him on the bed and have her way with him.

"I love it when you dirty talk with telepathy," Quinn commented casually.

She leaned forward and braced her hands against his chest once more, her green eyes betraying her, showing him her need. "Quinn," she spoke softly, her voice holding a hint of warning.

"Yes?"

"We're supposed to be training," she whispered.

She was debating. He could see it, it was written all over her. She was contemplating it. Quinn had heard her speaking with Hannah about the body switch and the sex that followed. Normally Rashel didn't ask for those details, she wasn't one to gossip, but she was also a virgin soul mated to a man who was definitely not one. Though he'd shielded himself from her, he'd seen her intent, her desire for knowledge about the act. If it was possible it made him love her that much more.

"We always train. I want to do something different."

Rashel snorted and tossed her long black hair over her shoulders. "Wonder what that could be," she commented sarcastically, pursing her lips and rolling her eyes. "You'd think a man a couple of hundred years old would be able to think of another way to spend his time."

Quinn shrugged, a boyish grin making him look eerily scary. "I can't help it. You're just too sexy."

A corner of her mouth lifted up in amusement and she raised her eyebrow, "How sexy?"

She was going give in!

"Would you like me to show you?" he challenged, his voice dropping an octave lower, knowing he had her.

Rashel bit her bottom lip, bracing her hands on his chest. "Maybe," she whispered, her stomach churning with nervousness. She quickly slipped away from him, "but first I'm going to get a little bit of chocolate if we aren't going to train. I've been craving it."

His head smacked down onto the blue training mat, his eyes looking at the ceiling with hopelessness. "Oh come on!" he shouted after her, "what a fucking tease," he grumbled as he leapt to his feet to follow her.

Ten minutes later they were sitting on his bed Indian style in his room with piles of junk food including the chocolate she'd been craving between them, along with two cans of diet cola. "Some craving," he mumbled, shaking his head in disbelief. "What happened to a little bit?"

Rashel shrugged, her green eyes flashing with amusement as she unwrapped a milk chocolate Dove bite and popped it in her mouth. A moan escaped, her eyes shut, and her face showing that this foiled candy was full pleasure.

"Hmm," he frowned, reaching for purple Dove bite. "I haven't had chocolate in nearly a century. For the life of me I can't understand why it'd be named after a bird."

Cracking open an eye, the electric green a brilliant contrast against her pale skin, she smiled at him. "What does a Dove symbolize?"

Quinn sighed. "That tiny piece of chocolate couldn't bring much peace. Hell, I bet I could give you more pleasurable peace than that."

Rashel shifted, extending her legs so that her feet rested on his muscular thighs, the green sheet allowing a smooth transition from an Indian style position. "Well I bet that I can make you eat your words."

A challenging gleam sparkled in his dark vampire eyes. "You're on baby."

She licked her bottom lip and gave him a look that said 'you're-so-screwed-just-you-watch-you'll-regret-calling-me-baby-too.' "Give me that knife you keep in the nightstand."

He arched a brow in question, but still wordlessly went to retrieve it, gently handing the cool steel over. He watched as she very slowly sliced through the meaty flesh at the tip of her thumb. He inhaled sharply feeling his fangs slide out of his gums on reflex, piercing his bottom lip. He watched the blood puddle before it dropped down the slender curve of her thumb like a tear drop.

"Put that piece of chocolate in you mouth and chew it, but don't swallow it," she commanded softly before awkwardly shifting the candy over with her non bleeding hand to scoot forward. She sat directly between his legs, with hers partially curling around his hips, her feet resting on the base of his spinal cord.

He frowned, managed a to give her a slightly apprehensive look though his dark black eyes never really strayed from the red liquid pooling in her palm. Quinn didn't make a move towards the chocolate, he physically couldn't. He was in a trance and her sweet red blood was the cause.

Who gives a damn about the chocolate!

He heard her sigh, then the rustling of foil being unwrapped and bunched together. He even felt the nudge of the chocolate against the seam of his lip, but he didn't smell it, because the moment Rashel had cut herself he'd stopped breathing. Others may be able to control it, but Quinn had never tried to until after he met Rashel. Will power was not easy. When she'd finally allowed him a taste he found that her blood was intoxicating, an addiction he could live with if only she would allow it.

His lips parted, his tongue darting out to capture the chocolate, his eyes still glued to the blood. Chewing the chocolate, but not really tasting it, because what he really wanted was five inches, no—now two inches, one inch. She coaxed him to open his mouth and lean his head back. Quinn responded with a deep growl that vibrated his whole body as she allowed the pooled blood from her palm to spill over into his mouth.

Blood and chocolate was indeed delicious.

To be continued…