Lady Sunday Morning
On Sunday morning in Darian's condominium, vertical blinds sliced the eastern light into ribbons. The decor was neutral: white, black, beige, wooden floors. Everything clean and in its place, because he didn't own much. He didn't spend time there. The only concessions to the arts were bookshelves lined with hardbacks and two enormous paintings, one in the pre-Raphaelite style, another an impressionist's work. The bed was a rumpled twist of sheets. An empty bottle of wine and two glasses crowded a nightstand.

He took a shirt and pants out of the closet and hung them on the bathroom door. The water ran noisily in the sink. He walked in and stood behind the blonde at the mirror. One hand went to either side of her, hemming her in. "You smell like me." Darian's face pressed into her neck and he breathed her in through his mouth and nose. It was a sweet and primitively possessive experience, to catch his scent on his lover's body, to find evidence of himself that stretched beyond his memories of having her. Sweeping her hair to the right, he kissed her shoulder.

Bethany was clad in one of Darian's shirts, figuring he wouldn't mind if she borrowed one for her morning rituals. Besides there was something comforting about wearing your lover's clothes, it was also quite a territorial thing.

She hitched up her shoulder at the kiss and smiled, the reflection of herself catching it and mirroring it back to Darian. He'd caught her in the middle of brushing her teeth, toothbrush stuck out of her mouth at a slanted angle. It took her bending down to wash away the toothpaste with water before she was finally able to say anything.

"I should hope so." Bethany leaned back into him and tilted her head, pressing a minty fresh kiss to the corner of his jaw.

He wrapped his palms around her stomach. Darian's thumb stole between the buttons and pressed inside her belly button, one of the many parts of her anatomy he worshiped. The secret places, the soft reminders of Bethany's femininity and all that hid behind her perfect image. "You also look fantastic." Toothbrush and all, with a fleck of paste on her lip. He kissed it away.

Neither of them was the sort to lounge in bed all day, reading the paper and watching television, but he didn't want to let go yet. Practicing public restraint, then finding someplace private to shed the uniforms of wealth sophisticates and behave badly was always exhilarating. This was good, too. The moderately rested, sore, and calm afterglow.

Bethany's eyes slid shut at those soft touches, fully aware of how brutal those hands could be. Eventually her eyes opened and her gaze lifted to the reflection of Darian, savouring these moments that only they shared, nobody else would ever know about them. "And you look gloriously debauched." Her lips lifted and the very tips of her teeth graced her lower lip, mischief in her eyes.

Last night had been... incredible, it was always incredible.

She lifted her hand and curled it around the back of his neck, lightly grazing her nails over his skin. "When do you have to leave for whatever it is you're doing today?"

"Mm." He shook his head and didn't leave the cove of her neck, doing the adult and standing version of hiding beneath the bed covers. He didn't want a reminder of his meeting, a suit and tie deal with real estate developers, so boring he daydreamed of jamming their designer ink pens through their ears. If desperate, through his own. All he wanted was the barely-there curve of her abdomen, the way it felt to press closer and sandwich her against the sink.

"Later. Two hours," he acknowledged. Then, furrowing his eyebrow, he joked with her, "Did you spell something out on my back, Beth? The scratches feel elaborate." He flexed his shoulder blades and laughed under his breath. "Do I need to check the mirror?"

Bethany gave the best 'I did nothing' expression before a smile got the better of her. "I don't recall spelling anything on your back, but that bitemark on your collarbone is most certainly spelling something out." She lifted her chin and caught his mouth this time, leaving a lingering feeling of her teeth behind.

"Two hours?" She asked, pressing back against him. "Mm, sounds like plenty of time. I don't have anywhere to be for the next four hours."

She eventually turned and slid up onto the sink, tugging Darian closer by placing both hands on the back of his neck. "I borrowed one of your shirts, hope you don't mind."

"It does? I'll make certain not to disrobe at the business meeting, then," he said dryly. Moving in closer, he squeezed her bare legs, then tugged the bottom of the shirt. "You look better in this than I do." Darian saw her clavicle in the open collar, the hint of her breasts through the fabric, "All you need is a pair of black heels." Sometimes, when he dropped by her work, he blotted out whatever dancer was onstage and thought about her in black lingerie and one of his white, unbuttoned shirts. Of course, if she ever did it, he'd have to kill everybody in the place who saw, starting with Ralphael.

Just to reduce the possibility of interference, of course.

Darian kissed her cheekbone.

"Might be an idea," Bethany answered with a wink. She closed her eyes at the kiss and leaned into it, letting one of her hands stray into his hair. Messing it up would never get boring. She leaned back after a moment, back making full contact with the mirror, oddly reminscent of the first time they'd come together.

She swept her eyes over him and smiled in full appreciation of the sight, people asked her why she'd settled for one person after going so many years without, and she tended to just smirk as they really had no idea just how satisfying Darian could be in more ways than one. And to think he was all hers.

"Guess I'll be wearing it for the next two hours."

"Huh," Darian cocked his head. "I wouldn't bet money on that."

He turned off the faucet. Water gurgled down the drain and left them in silence. He stood back, only permitting himself to hold her knees. He remembered that time, too, in the bar. When he went to talk to her, he had no idea she'd ask him to dance, or that he'd say yes. When he put his hands all over her in public, he didn't know if she'd bruise the shit out of him, or let him. As it turned out, both.

He rubbed her thighs and took a deep breath. Then he bent and kissed the inside of her knees.

"Mm, that sounds promising."

Bethany tipped her head and smiled down at Darian, feeling a shiver run the length of her spine. She ran her hand through his hair and felt her skin lift in response to the caress of his mouth on her knees. "I'm glad I stayed over last night. I needed some time away from the club." It wasn't often that Bethany indulged in downtime.

"I'd almost forgotten how good it felt to relax."

"Stay whenever you want," he murmured, maneuvering his mouth up the pale insides of her legs. He found a faint, reddish-purple mark, which looked like the work of a hip bone. He kissed it and then its twin. Darian would apologize for it, if he didn't already know she'd blow him off. Lifting his head, he bit lightly on the fabric of the enormous shirt, searching for her breast.

"I think we confuse your current staff more than the last one." He opened his mouth and let the wet heat of it close over her. They didn't understand what made Bethany tick; more accurately, why it was him. Monogamy wasn't expected of demons or wicked women who killed without regrets, not when so many good-intentioned humans couldn't manage it. Darian knew his acquaintances thought similarly towards him. "So many questioning looks."

Bethany's body reacted to his touches by arching into them, teeth slipping out to catch her lip. "Mm, I will." She tightened her hand in his hair, tipping her head back into the mirror, letting it hold her skull. At the mention of her staff she lifted an eyebrow. "Is that so? And which members of my staff have you been talking to?"

She twirled his hair around her fingers, easing the strands through the gaps in each.

He liked touching her through clothes, the mild abrasion of material between his tongue and her skin. Darian began to undo the shirt, his fingers pushing buttons through narrow holes. "Juliet," he said, enjoying the way her fingers felt on his scalp. It made him glow slower. "Jessica." Once he freed the buttons, he left it hanging open and straightened up, going nose to nose with the blonde.

He held onto the counter, another trial for himself. How long could he go without reaching inside? Where the shirt gaped open, that expanse of her skin was almost as pale white. "They don't ask, but they're curious."

Bethany dropped her other hand to Darian's hair, sliding her fingers through the hair whilst circling the scalp with the manicured tips of her nails.

The mention of Juliet brought about a sneer on Bethany's face. "I don't think I trust that girl," she shared. "Victoria says something about her doesn't seem right, I'm beginning to think she might be right." Jessica's name elicited a different response from Bethany altogether, her lips curled into a slow smile. "Ah, yes, Jessica. The girl with the killer instinct." She'd seen it that day she had tested her for her ability to hold her own.

Her legs flexed restlessly against Darian's side and she lifted her eyes, watching Darian from beneath her eyelashes.

"Hmm, well they have one thing in common." He detached her legs from his ribcage, depriving himself of the contact and pushing them far apart instead. Not for the first time, he thanked whatever gods existed for her flexibility. "They both wonder if you're human enough to feel things." Turning the tap onto a slow, cold trickle, he wet his fingertips and put them inside her thigh, letting the water stream down the soft flesh. Then he drew a straight line to her ankle, watching the goosebumps raise behind his index finger.

Darian looked at her in all seriousness. Then he tickled the arch of her foot.

"Really now?" Bethany lifted her eyebrow, somewhat amused by that revelation. She must have crafted her persona very well if that was what her staff was wondering. Not that they were wrong, she was rather... cold, detached a lot of the time. Except when in the presence of Darian or a close friend such as Victoria, even if she hadn't seen the vampire in quite a while.

The tickling of her foot brought about a light laugh, one that stirred her chest and cause her shoulders to shake. Her hand slipped behind her and caught the stream of water, flicking it at Darian a second later, the most innocent of expressions on her face.

The droplets caught Darian in the eyes. He flinched and squeezed them shut. "Really." He rubbed at them with thumb and forefinger, breathing low and deep, as if his patience had been tried. "Shall we find out for them?" The picture of nonchalance, he went back to rubbing her foot a bit longer, circling a thumb into the ball of it.

Then, dropping low, he jerked her forward and hauled her over his shoulder. Darian stood up. The mirror reflected a perfect view of Bethany's upturned ass, with Darian's head jutting out beside it. He pivoted and reached into the shower stall, cranking the cold water on and flipping the shower lever. "How much does the ice queen feel?"

He dumped her into the stream.

Bethany sucked in a breath the moment that cold water hit her skin and immediately soaked through Darian's shirt and wet her hair, meaning it clung to her cheeks and temples.

"Well that wasn't very nice now was it?" She narrowed her eyes and in a shot she was out of that shower, tackling Darian to the ground before straddling his chest, taking her time in wringing out her hair right onto him.

She leaned back after a few moments, stripping out of the shirt, but instead of hanging around she slid off him and left the damp shirt over his face. "I would've thought you of all people would know exactly how much I feel," Bethany threw over her shoulder, pivoting on her heel in all her half naked glory, offering the Dealmaker a smirk.

It was a good thing there was a bath mat on the tile. Otherwise, Darian would've cracked open his skull when she tackled. The water pelted his bare chest and soaked through his boxer briefs. When her weight disappeared, he peeled the shirt off his face and watched her strutting away. "Maybe I forgot," he said, rolling up to his feet. He left the faucet on and stalked after her, the sound of his footsteps much heavier than hers, and slower because he had longer legs. Two sets of damp footprints marked the wood floor.

"Where are you going?" He caught her in the hallway. Darian's finger slipped into the waistband of her panties and popped the elastic.

"Oh, I don't know, out?" She tipped her head up at Darian. "Maybe to somebody who knows exactly how much I feel?" Clearly teasing if her smile was anything to go by. She ran her fingertips over the elastic band of his boxers, allowing the very tips of them to slide into them, resting the full palms of both hands against the small of his back.

Bethany twisted her fingers in the material of his boxer shorts and rose up onto her toes, brushing a slow lingering kiss over his jaw. "I'm a woman who needs to be appreciated."

He held still. He paid attention to her lips on his jaw, the tips of her breasts on his chest, rising with each breath, the wet strands of hair, the cinching of his shorts. Darian knew her, inside and out. Each detail, everything Bethany said she wanted, or simply wanted with her eyes, he made it his business to know. He put his mouth on her ear and muttered, "If you think, for an instant, there's someone who can do that better than I can, you're bound for disappointment." He bent his knees and picked her up.

"I'd say you're welcome to look around, but you're not." He retraced steps into the bedroom and dropped her on the unmade bed. He made sure to let go early, so she bounced around on the mattress. Darian followed her onto it. He was smiling. "Unless you want to give me a free pass to do the same."

Bethany finally settled on her back and lifted an eyebrow, reaching up to curl her fingers in his hair, using the grip to yank him down with all the ferocity a Slayer was capable of. "No looking around, Darian. Besides," she shared heatedly against his mouth. "There's no other woman like me out there, in this world or another."

And with that snippet of information shared she lifted herself by stomach muscles alone and claimed his mouth in another passionate kiss. Her legs even closed around him in a show of possession, she didn't share very well.

That, he agreed on. With his scalp burning, he forced his arm underneath her and wrapped it around her back. A low, rough sound left his throat. He loved her mouth. He opened his and kissed her back, his tongue rocking in the knowing circles that his hips did against hers. It was an unconscious thing. The minute he was on her, or vice versa, his body acted out exactly what his mind wanted to do. Luckily, he didn't have any reason to hide it. Rolling them a little sideways, he hooked his fingers into the side of her panties and pulled them down. "One more time," he coaxed. "It'll give me something to think about during my business meeting."

Actually, that might be a mistake.

Bethany smirked, kicking the panties off once they hit her ankles, ridding him of his boxer shorts in much the same way. "One more time and then we can hit the shower together."

She pushed her hands over his shoulders, raking her nails over the previously abused flesh that was his back until she could close her hands around his sides, pulling him closer to fill the distance that separated them.

Bethany would be sure to make this one last time even better than the one before, give him something to keep his mind busy with.

He settled his forehead on hers. "You're an angel." He reached between them, touching her to make sure she was ready. It didn't matter how many years they were together, Darian was always taken off-guard by the feel of her. He could spend hours just experimenting, figuring out what made her breath catch, or her voice go hoarse, or her hips wiggle, or go completely still. He kissed his way into her earlobe and chewed on it. "Say when."

Bethany turned into his mouth and ran her fingers through his hair again, arching her back to press herself that much closer to him.

"When," she shared huskily. Darian never failed to set her heart racing or surprise her. It took a lot to make Bethany Richards fall in love, but he'd managed it.

Definitely when. He pushed into her with an eagerness that was almost grateful. It couldn't be helped. She tied him into knots. Once he was part of her, though, Darian took a slow breath, reigning himself in for five seconds, before he completely lost control of his body. He rested his forearms on either side of Bethany's head. His fingers tangled in the pretty blonde strands. "I love you." All the muscles in his torso and legs tightened, spasmed, wanting him to move.

Bethany made a sound the moment they came together and her legs curled themselves around him, encouraging further closeness. She breathed in through her nose, using it to steel herself for the movement that came next. She'd need it. Her lips curled into a slow smile and she lifted her head, brushing her mouth over his in a slow intimate kiss.

"I love you too," she confessed quietly, arching her hips and encouraging him to follow her.

He did and it was exquisite.