Darcy Branwyn

Songs from my writing playlist: Tokyo. I had this song on repeat while I was writing the first sex scene between Jonas and Catherine. Probably enough said. 😘 Just one thing to note is that Jonas as a vampire had never taken a mortal lover before, so the whole affair had to be done with, let’s just say, the utmost of care.

Tangled Moon:

… Catherine knew when he came into the room. It was more than his scent. She could feel him. It took all she had to crawl, shaking, toward him. He took her in his arms, laying her wordlessly over his lap. All she could hear was the sound of her heart beating all too fast and hard. Even the sounds of their labored breaths were dulled by it.

He brushed her hair out of his way, lifted her face smoothly toward his. Without thought she arched her neck back. She felt his breath on her neck, his fangs dragging cautiously over her skin until they caught on her scars.

Her hand felt for his and he met her halfway, fingers twining into hers. She moaned even before he entered her. She felt a sharp—welcome—pinch, and waited the seconds it took before her body rushed with warmth, flooding from her neck downward, loosening shaking muscles. She fell limp, couldn’t have moved no matter how hard she’d tried. It wasn’t just his presence that she felt, or his emotions, but his very power.

Her fingers came alive first. When he felt her gripping his hand he drank. Catherine’s body curled toward him and he cradled her to his chest until she felt even smaller than her five-foot-two. She felt so complete, so whole like that. Perfect.

He stopped drinking too soon. She wanted more. With one hand she reached out, found at last his head and tried to hold him to her neck, knowing she didn’t have the strength to keep him there.

He stayed with her a little longer, not swallowing, just there with her. Finally, reluctantly, he pulled free. Catherine sat up immediately, reaching for him. It didn’t even matter to her if it was safe yet. All she could think about was going back into the light.

He held her back; those arms too strong to allow for anything he wasn’t ready for.

“Jonas,” she pleaded, squirming against him as he held her carefully back.

He didn’t say anything. It lasted so long that she felt tears hot on her face. She wasn’t cued in on his breathing anymore. She was sobbing instead. The shaking was back, and she felt her heart hammering again in her throat.

Finally, slowly, he released her, pulling her up to kiss her softly. She melted to his heat, to his harder body, the tension draining back out of her. He kissed her jaw, the other side of her neck, her collarbone. One hand slid over her waist then came to cup her breast…

(Um… censored material.)

…She nearly lost it. Her hand gripped his wrist, and all she could do was hold on.  

“You’re going to be all right, little one,” he breathed. “You… Hold on.” His hand slipped away but only so that he could pull his shirt off. He dropped it aside. “I don’t want to touch you too much just yet.”

 “Yeah.” She felt her skin warming. Despite her desire, it seemed she was still capable of embarrassment too. “I seem to go crazy when you do.”

“But you can touch me,” he finished.

“Okay,” she managed, garbled.

She wished for more light to see him with. Never mind, she’d just have to go with her hands. She reached out while he sat there for her, unmoving save his breathing. Her fingers tentatively found the Adam’s Apple on his throat. She followed a line down over his sternum. He was smooth beneath soft, springy hairs, like polished stone. She found the nipples, noting with increasing awareness the way his breath changed as she touched them.

Jonas’s hands moved to touch her back but he stopped himself, heaving breath as if it was killing him.

She continued over the lines of muscle on his stomach, making her wish again for more light. She found the waistband on his jeans, pulling away suddenly. Maybe going there was too much for her.

She sat back, looking up at him in hopes of some rescue. It took him a moment, and then he reached out, brushing her hair gently off her face.  He tipped her to him and kissed her. She inched closer, and was eased into his chest by a hand on her back. She took in his smooth skin, wishing she didn’t still have her sweater on. She reached for it to take it off, surprised when he helped her out of it, t-shirt and all. They tossed it aside together.

She moved back into him but he stopped her. Catherine sat back on her heels, in agony, but unwilling to end it either as he looked at her there in her jeans and bra.  

His fingers smoothed softly down the front of her throat like she had done to him, then down her sternum. The backs of his fingers brushed the swell of one breast. The other followed, palms cupping gently over both breasts. Catherine gripped his forearms.

He laughed quietly. “Let go, Catherine.”

Every time he said her name she nearly died. Her hands slid free and he reached back to unclasp her bra. She sat there breathing as he slipped it off. It was too dark to read his expression. Not fair that he could see her better than she could him. It took him a while. Catherine swallowed hard, waiting…

Censored. 😉

…Finally, carefully, he eased her against his chest, skin-to-skin. Catherine wound her arms around his shoulders taking it in. God, he was so warm and smooth and perfect. Jonas took a hold of her hips, easing her over him, one thigh to either side. He pulled her closer and she felt…

Censored. 😮

…Need rippled through her, making her shiver. Catherine’s eyes closed reflexively and her fingers twisted into his hair. What had he said, that she was for him to pleasure? There was no way he could literally have been waiting since 1776 for her to be in the world with him at the same time.

Could he?

He pushed her back, Catherine reaching out for him. “No, don’t, please,” she begged.

He caught her hands. “No, not that,” he said, slipping away from her. He got up and stood before her, hands to sides, waiting for her to decide where she wanted this to go next.

Don’t wimp out now, Claymore…

Part two coming soon.

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