Sam, Sasha, and I are taking off for a week to go visit a friend in DC. We will be back at work next Tuesday, th 26th. As ever, we'll be around a bit, but mostly away from our computers and such so replies, etc. will take a bit longer than usual. We're going to be on the road most of tomorrow, so we definitely won't be able to do much then.
If you absolutely need something from me today, you have about four hours left to get it.
Everyone try to behave while I'm gone, or at least get your alibis in order before shenanigans begin.
As ever, I leave you with a WIP snippet. I hope you enjoy.
DANCE IN THE STORM
The only thing more beautiful than the way Christian writhed and moaned beneath him, sweat gleaming on his pale skin, muscles rippling, hair damp and messy, was the way his energies rolled and shifted and spun, that beautiful, perfect combination of black and gold he'd first admired now heavily twined with Sable's own gray and silver energies. Death and Life and Storms.
Sable sank all the way into Christian's body, ran one hand up and down his spine, lifted the other to comb gently through their mingling energies, warm and soft and fluttering against his skin. To touch another's energies was taboo in paranormal culture—especially amongst demons. He would never touch without permission, but ah, there was nothing Christian did not permit him, and he did love the strangled cries such an intimate touch provoked.
"Damn it, Sable—"
Chuckling, Sable stopped tormenting and took firm hold of Christian's hips, began to fuck him in long, hard, steady strokes. Thunder rolled and cracked all around them, the bedroom filling with sharp, brilliant bursts of light as lightning danced through the clouds. "You're perfection, beautiful."
"You're still not working hard enough," Christian snapped.
Sable chuckled again and pulled out, caught the arms that came flying at him as Christian rose and turned, and pushed him down into the bedding. Pinning Christian's wrists with one hand, he used the other to brace himself as he slid right back into Christian's tight heat.
Christian's head fell back on a long moan, a hard shudder wracking his entire body. Sable bent to swipe his tongue along the long line of Christian's throat, retraced the path with his teeth.
"I will kill you," Christian hissed out.
Laughing into his throat, Sable finally withdrew, freed Christian's wrists, and fucked him so hard Christian would bitch about being sore for hours—though he'd do it with a smile on his face, because Christian would never say it aloud but he always liked to be left a little sore and bruised.
On very rare occasions, Sable was allowed to leave that beautiful ass covered in bruises and welts.
"I'm going to—" Christian moaned. Cover you face in bruises, you damnable demon.
Sable pulled nearly all the way then slammed back into him, spreading Christian's thigh so far apart he knew they stretched and burned.
When he could hold on no more, he sank in deep one last time and pressed his body against Christian's, kissed him hard as their orgasms shuddered through them. Then he slumped right where he was, until sharp nails and teeth motivated him to roll off.
He might have sulked, but moving onto his back got Christian pressed up close against his side, half-draped across him, and a kiss pressed to his shoulder.
"You're a menace, demon."
Sable smiled, too sated and tired to bother with more of a reply. Breathing in the scents of Christian and sex and distant storms, he drifted off to sleep.
His alarm woke him a few hours later, and he reluctantly disentangled himself from Christian's warmth before rolling out of bed and heading into the bathroom.
Half an hour later, dressed in a new black and gun metal gray pinstripe, he headed down to his offices. Beyond the walls of the Tantalus, rain fell lazily on a cool night, the full moon bright and sharp where it peeked through thin clouds.
His admin, Emily, was waiting for him as he stepped out. She handed him a cup of fragrant, steaming chai and started tapping away on her tablet, a recent gift that she had nearly kissed him for. "Your eleven o'clock is waiting, and your twelve thirty called to say she'd be a little late. I moved your one o'clock up half an hour and you've got nothing else until late morning. And you have someone waiting in your office."
His office? Must be high-ranking indeed for Emily to grant them such an honor. "Who?"
Emily held out a card and resumed tapping and typing.
Sable's brows rose as he read the card, and outside thunder rolled.