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Sorry for the delay, y’all. I had a bit of a rage blackout after Thursday’s finale episode. At least now I have the four-month hiatus to recover. If I ever can. Julie and Kevin, I’m watching you. >:-/
So, without further ado, part two of the scene I feel like I should ground myself for writing, since I’m too old for my mom to do it. *deep blush* I am SO not letting my husband read this sequel.
Let the tomato throwing begin.
Fanfiction.net link: http://www.fanfiction.net/s/6910203/10/Just_Enough_Rope
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CHAPTER TEN
Elijah lifted Jenna down, keeping his hands on her waist until he was sure her legs were going to support her – and was privately pleased with his efforts when she grasped his upper arms to steady herself for a moment. He hid the smirk by reaching back to turn off the water.
“That was…” Jenna sighed.
“A good start,” he finished for her, catching her mouth for a smoldering kiss before opening the shower door and grabbing a couple of towels from the rack. He draped one over her shoulders and rubbed the other across his shoulders and torso, wicking water off of his skin as efficiently as possible. While she dried off, he sped out to the bedroom, lighting candles and starting the gas fireplace so that when Jenna emerged from the bath, the room was warmly lit by the glow of the flickering light.
She glanced around, impressed. "This vamp speed thing must come in really handy when it comes time to do housework."
"Mm." Elijah crossed to her, watching the firelight play off of her skin, flushed and moistened from the steamy bathroom. Taking her face in his hands, he lowered his lips to hers, soft and sweet. As heated as things had been in the shower, he preferred to bank that fire and feed it slowly; flames that burned too hotly flashed over and were quickly extinguished. He had every intention of making this last.
Jenna circled his wrists with her hands, turning to press a kiss into each of his palms. Elijah rested his forehead against hers as he drew her against him, stroking one hand through her hair to comb through the wet tangles while his other arm circled her waist, holding her close. "I'm glad you're here tonight," he told her.
"Me too." With a deep sigh, she settled against him, nuzzling her face against his neck and holding onto him. "I was scared," she whispered.
"Shhhhh..." He rubbed his hand down her back, then up; down and back, in a slow, soothing motion over and over again, until Jenna relaxed fully against him, and her heart rate took on a even, steady rhythm. Only then did he pull back just enough to kiss her again. He took his time, caressing her lips with his as he traced lazy circles along the back of her neck with his fingertips. He felt her hand stroke along his jaw, her thumb brushing the cleft in his chin.
Jenna brought her arms up around his neck, pushing his hair back out of his eyes and off of his forehead as she pulled his bottom lip into her mouth, suckling at it for a moment before she pulled her mouth away from his and moved it down his chin, flicking her tongue where her thumb had just been and trailing kisses down his neck. She moved into him, pushing him back a step, toward the bed. Elijah smiled and let himself be pushed until he felt the sueded microfiber against the backs of his legs.
Pulling back and looking into his eyes, Jenna raised one eyebrow at him and pushed a hand into the center of his chest. Acquiescing, he sat on the edge of the bed and put his hands on her waist to try and bring her with him, but she put her hands on his shoulders, resisting. Taking his face into her hands, as he had done to her earlier, she bent and kissed him deeply. Wrapping his arms around her hips as the passion flared between them again, he made to turn and roll her onto the bed. Once more, however, she resisted. It appeared she had other ideas.
Jenna tore her mouth away from his and knelt slowly down onto the carpet, between his knees. Smoothing her hands first along the tops of his thighs, then along the insides, she locked her eyes with his in a smoldering, wicked look and took him into her mouth.
Elijah hissed out a breath as her lips and tongue touched him, followed by fingers that softly caressed and kneaded all of the sensitive areas. "Jenna – "
"Shhhhh," she parroted back at him, making him shiver as he felt as well as heard it. Needing something to do with his hands, he stroked her hair as she worked her magic on him. It was always obvious when a woman didn't really enjoy what she was doing, only participating out of some misguided sense of obligation; that wasn't the case with Jenna. She did enjoy it, just as he had enjoyed her earlier. Satisfied that she was content, Elijah let his head fall back and surrendered to her.
Sensing his acquiescence, she took all of him in briefly, pulling a gasp from him as all of his senses jumped several steps up the alert scale. He both heard and felt her chuckle at his reaction, which sent another shockwave ripping through him, making him curse and tighten his fingers in her hair before he consciously made himself let go, gripping the coverlet instead. Her tongue dancing over a particularly sensitive spot made his whole body spasm involuntarily as a groan escaped him.
Normally a very patient man, Elijah was reminded forcefully – yet again – that his body had been ignored in this manner for far, far too long, and Jenna was taking full advantage of that lapse, making him shudder and jerk and gasp as her mouth flirted over him, by turns playful and forceful. He had to make her stop.
"Jenna..."
"Mmm..."
Jolt! His hips jerked forward as that hum, low in her throat, brought him right to the brink. He bit down on his lip, hard. "Jenna, you – "
She closed around him, pressing her thumb to the base of him and running it upward. Jolt! "You have to – "
Again, she took the whole length of him in, and he felt the delicious rasp of teeth as she withdrew. Jolt!
"Jesus, Jenna, you need to – " JOLT! He gasped in a ragged breath. "You can't – I can't – "
Her dark eyes looking up at him, she fluttered her tongue over him as he whimpered, and as the last of his control started to shred, he saw triumph in them. Gripping her fingers hard around him, she took him in deep again, and shot him over the edge.
The force of the climax made his back arch hard enough that he heard it snap as he poured himself into her, rocking against her lips as each spasm shook him. He dimly registered a ripping noise as he clenched the coverlet in his fist, trying to anchor himself. Wave after wave her mouth worked him, until he was fairly certain he was going to die from the sheer sensation of it and resurrect sometime later in the evening. At last he spent himself and, shuddering and gasping, fell back on the bed, his feet still on the floor and Jenna rising up to stand between them, her mission accomplished.
His eyes closed, Elijah felt her weight settle on the bed as she pressed a kiss to his forehead. He cracked one eye open and glanced up to see her lying on her stomach, her head near his, sporting a very self-satisfied smirk. "Quite pleased with yourself, aren't you?" he murmured.
The smirk widened a little. "Not as pleased as you are, I think."
"Oh?" In a quick blur, Elijah moved so that he was over her, his teeth nipping lightly at the back of her neck, making her squeal.
"Hey! You aren't supposed to be able to move yet, mister!"
"I'm a vampire," he reminded her, running his tongue along her ear-lobe. "We recover quickly." He slipped one hand underneath her on the bed, cupping her breast with it.
"Mm," she groaned. "I seem to remember something about that now."
On his hands and knees over her, Elijah pressed kissed after kiss along Jenna's neck and spine, nipping here and there as he went and caressing her breast, her side, her hip. She pushed up on one hand, as though to turn over, but Elijah pressed his weight to her to keep her from turning. "Uh-uh," he murmured. Using his knee to part her legs a little, he kissed the small of her back and reached around her hip to stroke his hand between her legs.
Jenna moaned and arched her back up a little. Elijah let his fingers play over her as he slid back up her body. Feasting on her neck and shoulders, he kept his senses trained on her, waiting for a jump in heart-rate and the scent of hormones to tell him when she was ready.
When she was, he raised her hips and slid inside her.
Jenna groaned and gripped the covers, just as Elijah had earlier. He covered her hand with his, pulling almost out of her before sliding home again. The third time, a sudden gasp and the answering kick in her heartbeat showed him he had found the spot; after that, he hit it unerringly. When she started to clench around him, he took her harder and felt her jerk underneath him as she came.
As her tremors subsided, Elijah slowed his rhythm and wrapped an arm underneath her, straightening so he was on his knees and pulling her up with him, giving his hands full access to the front of her. He stilled his hips and let his fingers bring her back after a short lull, resuming movement when her breath started coming in quick pants again to send her flying back over the edge.
Elijah held that pattern until he felt himself getting close. Humans were fragile, and even with the best of intentions, too tight a grasp in the throes of passion could crush her. Afraid of hurting her when the time came, he separated from her and lay back, urging her on top. He let Jenna take control from there, setting her own rhythm.
This time, when she went, he went with her.
~~~~~
Jenna stretched out beside him, laying her head on his shoulder. Elijah pulled the blanket up around her when he felt the gooseflesh along her arm. "There were supposed to be chocolates, and a truly excellent bottle of wine, you know," he murmured into her hair.
"Mmm... chocolate," she said drowsily, snuggling into him. She was asleep within minutes.
Elijah lay there, listening to the sounds of the night before he too dropped off to sleep.
~~~~~
It was well after midnight and into the morning when Elijah let himself in through the servants’ quarters. In the three weeks since he had returned home from battle – a battle from which they had finally emerged victorious, thanks to the ritual he and the others had undergone – it had become his custom to leave the household when it started bustling in the mornings, returning at night when all had quieted. Then, he could sit in his study and hear himself think. He could walk through the house without being accosted at every turn by someone wanting something. He could exist in the same house as his family without wanting to tear their throats out.
This night, though, when he passed silently down the hall and crept into his study, his wife was there, awaiting him.
Leah had lit only a single candle, but the light was more than adequate for his now-heightened senses. She was in her shift and dressing gown, as though she had risen from bed, unable to sleep. As he entered the study, she pushed aside the blanket she had draped over her legs to guard against the chill. Her long, dark hair was unbound and fell in curls almost to her waist, which was barely wider than it had been when he had wed her, despite her having born him five children. She stood, and Elijah could see just by her stance that his days of politely avoiding her had come to an end.
"The hour is late," he told her, rather unnecessarily. "You should be abed."
"Yes, I should. With my husband." Leah moved to stand in front of him, reaching out a hand and placing it on his arm to stop him when he would have stepped around her. "Your return has been nearly one month hence, Elijah, yet you have barely spoken. Indeed, you are barely present. What troubles you so, my love?"
"Nothing you need dwell on. I should review the household accounts." He moved to go around her again.
She took his hand as he tried to pass. "Was it something that happened in battle?"
"We won the battle," he answered shortly, freeing his hand. "Now, please: return to bed and allow me to work." Elijah moved the candle from the stand by the divan and set it on the desk, pulling a large ledger from the shelves behind it. Cracking it open to the last three months' worth, he sat in the chair and uncapped the inkwell.
Leah slapped her hand on the ledger and gave it a mighty shove, sending it flying off the side of the desk. Elijah leapt up to avoid being sprayed with the ink as the book clipped it and knocked it off the desk. "Bloody hell! Are you mad, woman?!"
"Bloody right I am!" She rounded the desk, all but pinning him to the bookcase with a finger drilled into his chest. He could see her working herself up to a truly fine temper. "You disappear all day and for most of the night, and for the few hours you are here, you do whatever necessary to avoid me and the children. You are not injured, not that I can see, nor are you ill. This is not like you, Elijah. My God, Mary came running and hid beneath my skirts this morning after you passed her on your way out the door. Your own daughter has grown frightened of you!" Leah emphasized the last with another vicious jab to his chest.
"Perhaps she should be. Perhaps you all should be."
"Does this have to do with that foolishness with Klaus?" she demanded, crossing her arms in front of her.
Foolishness?! He had to get away from her. He stepped to the side, only to have her block him again. In the next breath, he had her shoved against the bookcase, his hand around her throat. "Yes, Leah. That foolishness with Klaus. That foolishness that made it possible for us to save our homes here." Elijah felt her pulse flutter under his thumb, where it pressed against her throat. He could hear it whispering to him, calling from under her skin. He could feel his own veins filling around his eyes as fangs pressed against his lip.
With a monumental effort of will, he whirled away from her, crossing the room to lean his arms on the mantel over a long-cold hearth. He sucked in deep breath after deep breath and clenched his fists, anything he could think of to keep from crossing the room again and tearing out his wife's throat.
"Helen fled, you know,” she said conversationally, into the charged silence. “Before Klaus could return home again. She said that he was no longer her husband, that he had become a monster."
Elijah clenched his eyes shut, afraid the emotion there would spill over. "Helen was right," he whispered, laying his head on his arms.
He jerked, startled when slipped her arms around his waist and pressed against his back. "Helen was a fool," she told him, her disdain for the woman clear. "Klaus was always a monster. No arcane ritual was necessary to demonstrate that; anyone with eyes could see it. Elijah, look at me."
"Please," he begged. "Leah, don't."
"Look at me," she said, more firmly. When he still didn't move, she slipped around to the side and turned his face toward her.
He didn't know how much was visible to her in the dim light, but he could still feel vestiges of the bloodlust marking him. The thought of what he could do to her... what he wanted to do to her…
But Leah was not a woman easily cowed. She took his face into her hands, rubbing her thumbs along his cheeks, under his eyes where the veins still ran dark and ugly. She pressed her lips to his. "You are not a monster, Elijah. You. Are. My. Husband. Whatever this... this thing is that Klaus has pressed upon you, I will not allow it to take you. I will not allow him to take you. Do you understand me? I will not allow it. You belong to me."
He turned his face from her, unable to bear the scrutiny. “Leah, please…” he whispered hoarsely. He wasn’t even certain what he begged her for. Space? Understanding? Absolution?
"Hush.” Leah pulled him to her. He resisted at first, but her fingers in his hair and on the back of his neck soothed him, and he let his head fall onto her shoulder, let her give him that small comfort. “I need you,” she told him softly. “Our children need you.”
He held her to him. “There will be no more.” It was the first time he’d said it out loud, that he had let himself think it, really. Whatever magic or demonic force – he no longer knew which – drove him, he knew that he had died. Whether he was man or demon now, he was dead, and life did not spring from death. He could add no more to their family.
Leah pulled away from him. Taking his hand, she placed it on her belly, under her dressing gown. “There will be one more.” Startled, he stared into her eyes. She met his gaze steadily. “Before you rode out, you left something behind.”
Slowly, he spread his fingers out, and felt the small bump underneath, where she was just beginning to swell with his sixth, and final, child. His emotions, kept viciously dammed to that point, surged and broke through, crashing and raging through him until he was certain they must drown him, but through the maelstrom she held him, kept him anchored to her, to himself, to what he had been before he had allowed Klaus to change him. “It will be all right,” she murmured to him, over and over as she held him to her.
And for just that little bit, he had allowed himself to believe her.
~~~~~
Jenna shifted and rolled over, waking Elijah from the dream. He rolled with her and spooned against her back, his arm draped over her. She sighed contentedly and locked her fingers with his, dropping back into sleep after a few moments. Elijah remained awake, senses trained around him.
He couldn’t remember the last time he had dreamt of Leah. He had long ago trained his conscious mind not to think of her, not to let his mind dwell there. Because he had hurt her. But not that night. That night he had let her lead him to their bed, and made love to her. He had held her against him when she slept, listening to her slow, steady breathing, and the fluttering, staccato beat of his unborn child’s heart.
Just as he could hear Jenna’s child now.
Elijah slipped his hand out of hers and rolled onto his back, staring up at the ceiling as he sorted through all of the implications of that realization.
An hour later, still awake, he slipped quietly out of bed and left the room.
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