DISCLAIMER: "The Hollows" series and its characters are the property of Kim Harrison, and Harper Collins Publishers. This piece of fan fiction was created for fun and not profit.
ARCHIVING: Only with the permission of the author.
Rachel always felt guilty after, never during, never before.
She opened the door to Ivy's room, the hallway light piercing the inky blackness. In that moment, when the door opened and before it closed, Rachel saw Ivy, a flash of alabaster skin on black. Nude body stretched across the bed, she was already up on her elbows, eyes as black as midnight.
"Rachel.." she whispered hoarsely. She already knew what was about to happen, probably long before Rachel did.
She closed the door behind her, the room going black as a cave. She didn't fear the darkness of Ivy's room, not anymore. She knew it like the back of her hand now. Avoiding bumping her hip against the dresser against the wall as she walked towards Ivy's bed, peeling out of her camisole and panties.
It'd been right after Kisten died, the first time they did 'this'. Ivy had withdrawn into herself. Rachel was tired of mourning alone. She wanted, no, needed to be with someone who understood, someone who'd loved Kisten as much as she did. All she had was Ivy.
"What are you doing?" Ivy had said as Rachel slipped under Ivy's black silk sheets and molded her body against Ivy's.
"Shhh," was all Rachel said.
Ivy rolled onto her back. "Rachel.."
"Don't," her voice was strong, stern as she slid on top of Ivy. "Don't push me away. Not tonight. Please."
Chest against chest, Rachel felt Ivy's breath hitch, the sudden increase of her pulse. Had the lights been on, she would have seen the blackness of Ivy's eyes as they dilated. Her hands were at the base of Rachel's ribs, tensing and about to push Rachel away.
It came from the same place Rachel's anger and rage did even though it was neither. If Rachel were to define it, she'd call it a dark ache. For the way the world was, their places in it and for things that could never be. Rachel didn't have Kisten anymore, but she had Ivy. The dark ache inside her said Ivy was hers, just for this moment.
It compelled Rachel to grab Ivy by the wrists and pin her arms to the mattress. Hard. Followed by a growl that wasn't from Ivy. Rachel leaned down. Kissing on the lips somehow seemed forbidden. So Rachel drew her lips over Ivy's forehead, kissed the tears welling in the corners of Ivy's eyes. Drew her lips down cheek and jaw.
Ivy began to resist, pushing at the hands holding her down. Another growl and Rachel clamped her teeth onto Ivy's neck. There was a sound that came from Ivy, one Rachel had never heard before. A rasping grunt that ended with a whimper and Rachel finally understood.
Submission. Maybe not forever and always but, in this moment, Ivy submitted to Rachel.
Rachel took her, between the tears and sobs as she mapped Ivy's skin with her lips. She unleashed her dark ache that left bruises and teeth marks in its wake. It wasn't Ivy's fault but Rachel blamed her anyway. Because she was all of Kisten Rachel had left. She both loved and she hated Ivy for it.
Her hands released the hold on Ivy's wrists and Rachel traveled down. She parted Ivy's legs roughly, leaving her mark on the inside of a thigh. Tears trailed down her cheeks as she tasted Ivy for the first time. Ivy, who tasted nothing like Kisten. She licked and lapped hungrily, Ivy writhing beneath her. Which just made the dark ache within her grow because Ivy was holding back and now was not the time to hold back.
Rachel plunged two fingers into Ivy, the vampire's hips bucking, lifting off the bed at the hard penetration. Rachel added a third finger and Ivy wasn't holding back anymore. She heard it in the keening cries wailing from Ivy's throat, the way her hips undulated wilding beneath her.
Rachel pulled Ivy's clit into her mouth and sucked like she was trying to pull it off. Ivy unraveled, coming completely undone. She writhed like a livewire, tensing and trembling like she'd lost all coordination. The only sound of her release - a jagged and breathed groan that seemingly went forever.
Then, it was over. Ivy collapsed on the mattress, completely spent. The dark ache gone, Rachel rose from the bed, wiping her stained mouth and chin with the back of a hand. She gazed at the dark space where she knew Ivy would be then turned on her heel and slipped out of Ivy's room like a thief in the night.
Afterwards, when she'd showered, scrubbing their mixed scents off her skin, Rachel felt guilty.
It didn't happen a lot after that first time, but it did happen. Ivy never went to Rachel. Rachel always went to Ivy.
Ivy was already on her back when Rachel slipped under the sheets. Hands already clasped around the slats of her headboard. She'd been waiting. Her skin already warm, covered in a sheen of sweat.
Rachel clambered over her, straddling the thigh that rose between her legs. Ivy whimpered, Rachel moaned as her sex hit the smooth skin and muscled steel of Ivy's thigh. Hands placed on the mattress just under Ivy's arms, lower lip sucked between her teeth, Rachel began to grind. There was no reason to be here, Rachel knew. The dark ache within her had long ago subsided to an always there pulse. She never lingered on why she still did this. Thought of it in the crudest manners possible to keep from possibly naming what it could really be. So, Rachel called it 'friends with benefits', 'no-strings sex', 'sport fucking'.
The tension already coiling within her, Rachel rolled her hips harder. It was almost a convulsion, the wide and hard arc of her hips, the top of Ivy's thigh practically coated with Rachel's essence. She began to moan, grunting with every thrust of her hips. The headboard began to smack against the wall, which just seemed to make Rachel drive harder like she was exorcising the demon part of herself.
She tilted her head down, the sweat dripping off her chin as she gazed down at Ivy. She couldn't see her in the pitch black of Ivy's room but she knew Ivy was watching her. Watching her with pitch black eyes and slack open mouth. Rachel didn't understand why Ivy was so afraid of losing control. She demonstrated a remarkable sense of control whenever they did this. She never took her hands off the headboard, never initiated the kisses that were never on the lips or told Rachel where or how to touch her.
It sent a shiver down Rachel's spine that shuddered between her legs. Rachel might not have been bound to Ivy but, in these moments, it was Ivy who was bound to Rachel. She had no free will, anything Rachel asked and the answer was always 'yes'. Ivy was Rachel's.
It was that thought that had Rachel coming, back bowing as her hips bucked wildly on Ivy's thigh. Head tossed back, a keening wail erupted from Rachel's throat before she collapsed atop Ivy.
Face against Ivy's neck, Rachel panted, feeling Ivy twitch with each ragged exhale. When her energy returned, Rachel ran her tongue over Ivy's pulse point, nibbling at it with her teeth for no other reason than because she knew how it always drove Ivy wild.
Then, Rachel was descending, scraping her teeth across Ivy's collarbone, feeling the sweat collecting in her mouth. She suckled and bit Ivy's nipples until the vampire was squirming beneath her.
Rachel had it but she wasn't above pushing Ivy to see how far she could go. Ivy was pretty far gone. Rachel could hear it in Ivy's breathing, the way she forced the air through her nose like she was trying to find her center.
Lowering again, Ivy bucked beneath Rachel as Rachel pulled on the tiny stomach piercing. Ivy whimpered, arcing her hips as her legs spread wider, about as close to a demand as she'd ever get.
Rachel dipped her fingers into Ivy's folds, purring at the sensation of slippery wet and warm flesh. She teased Ivy, prodding her opening with the tip of a finger. Teased her more by slathering her tongue over Ivy's thigh, lapping up her own essence.
Ivy's moans became louder, more ragged and urgent. Her hips began to roll, pushing at Rachel's teasing finger for penetration.
A low growl rumbled up Rachel's throat. She pulled back her hand from between Ivy's legs, placed it against the other thigh and dug her nails in. A warning. Ivy whined, like a feral cat backed into a corner, ready to claw its way out. She was close, and losing control.
Rachel kept pushing.
Mouth hovering over Ivy's sex, Rachel ran her tongue up the entire length. She moaned at the taste of Ivy's essence. Ivy was so wet. Ivy was always wet. Rachel dove in. Parting the folds with her tongue, prodding and poking, she licked and lapped, inhaling Ivy's scent as the wetness increased.
Rachel never dared to define what 'this' was, but she always knew why she came back. She got lost in this, in Ivy. The smell of her, her taste and texture. The way Ivy moaned and writhed like this was the most painful thing in the world when it was the exact opposite. Sometimes, Rachel was quick, going hard and fast for the sake of release. But, Rachel really liked to take her time, torturing Ivy with pleasure because, well, whatever 'this' was, Rachel really enjoyed doing it.
Hands on the insides of Ivy's thighs, Rachel pushed down to keep Ivy from squirming so damn much. Ivy cried out as Rachel plunged her tongue, nose buried in Ivy's folds. Fingers were good, fingers were great but Rachel loved using her tongue more. Where she could taste Ivy, feel her clench and tighten. How she would buck when Rachel curved her tongue, then wriggle like she was trying to slither out of her skin when Rachel rubbed it against that spot.
Ivy panted and whimpered through clenched teeth. Rachel could practically hear Ivy's fingers gripping the headboard tighter. Then, one of those hands was on Rachel's head, threading through her hair, nails scraping hard against Rachel's scalp. Quickly, Rachel withdrew her tongue, heard Ivy moan at the loss then gasp as fingers replaced tongue and Rachel wrapped her lips around Ivy's clit.
Sex with Ivy was like a good run, a really good run. The kind where they became a unit, two beings of one mind, one body. They didn't just find a rhythm, it was instinctive. Ivy rolled her hips and writhed, Rachel used her fingers and lips, knowing how much, when and where.
And then Ivy was coming. Rachel replaced fingers and tongue again, tasting Ivy, pushing her tongue deep, as Ivy clenched and trembled and keened.
Rachel never kept track of time when they did this but it always seemed to end. Ivy collapsed, boneless and spent. Rachel withdrew, sapping Ivy of every aftershock as she lapped at Ivy's flushed sex. It took longer to leave after each time but Rachel always left.
She slipped off the bed, gathering her clothes off the floor in the pitch black darkness. Standing in the opened door, the light from the hall spilling into the inky darkness, Rachel took one last look at Ivy, her shoulders sagging as a heavy weight began to push down on them.
Rachel always felt guilty after this, never during, never before.
As she closed the door behind her and headed towards her room, Rachel was once again starting to feel guilty.
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