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Jazz’s first impression was one of disappointment. Really? Prowl had all the money in the world, and this was where he’d decided to bring her for a romantic getaway? She’d been expecting the glittering towers of Vos, the thrill of the Polyhexian racing circuit; not a tiny rust- and wind-worn resort with buildings that looked ready to blow over and fall down into the Rust Sea at the first stiff breeze.
Amused by her underwhelmed response, Prowl smiled. “What do you think?” he asked, coming up beside her to loop an arm around her waist. “I have had our bags sent on ahead to the hotel. We can take our time enjoying the sights.”
“What’s to enjoy?” Jazz pouted, head turning to look up at Prowl’s sightless eyes. As usual he was hiding them, along with his scars, behind those dark sunglasses. A good half the other people milling around outside the small airport were wearing sunglasses too though, so that wasn’t what made him stand out. No, that would be how conservatively he was dressed. Full coverage at the seaside indeed. If he hadn’t been so preternaturally cool, Jazz would have worried about him overheating! As it was, the hand on her hip was a pleasant contrast to the midday heat. “I thought you said you were taking me somewhere special.”
“And so I have. This place is special. Do not judge it only by what you can see on the surface.”
“Is that what I’m doing?”
Oh, that subtle smirk, the peeking tip of a poorly concealed fang. Jazz felt her body warming in a way that had nothing to do with the balmy weather. “Please,” Prowl implored. “Indulge me.”
“I indulge you plenty,” Jazz said, tossing her head to let the wind flutter her dark hair fetchingly. “Maybe it’s time you indulge me.”
“I intend to.” Prowl gave her a gentle, possessive squeeze, then brought his other hand up over her bosom, tracing up the swell of her breast to the column of her neck. Her skin was so warm, so soft, pulsing with the hot red life rushing just beneath the surface and the intoxicating scent of her arousal. Oh, he most definitely planned to indulge, again and again, until he’d sated both their appetites. “But come,” he said, reluctantly exercising control. “First, there is a market I would explore with you.”
“Shopping?” In spite of herself, Jazz found her interest piqued. She “pretended” to think it over before “conceding” with an exaggerated sigh. “Alright then, if you insist. But you’re going to have to make it up to me if I don’t find anything to my liking.”
Prowl just smiled enigmatically, then proceeded to guide her through the streets.
When they reached the market, Jazz still wasn’t all that impressed. The humble tents and stalls along either side of the faded cobblestone street, separated from the flow of what minimal vehicle traffic there was by a half-height bleached-wood palisade, was not up to her usual standards and she said as much. “I’m still waiting to be amazed,” she drawled, only to feel Prowl’s chest rumble with silent laughter at her side.
“Because you still have not looked beyond the surface.” Effortlessly Prowl steered her under an awning into a tiny hut filled front to back with vibrantly colored garments. While her current ensemble was perfectly stunning, he couldn’t pass up the opportunity to find her something more suited to the locale.
“Hello!” The shop’s proprietor greeted them both when he spotted them. Jazz stifled a giggle at the visible doubletake he did at Prowl’s appearance. Looked like he’d forgotten his script at the sight of a vampire in his shop. If only he knew how much more than a vampire the primordial was! “I, ah, welcome,” he stammered, attempting to recover. “What can I help you find?”
“I don’t know,” Jazz said, reaching for one of the flowy, floral print chiffon tops. It was light and airy and probably very comfortable, but, “I have plenty of clothes with me.”
“Your wardrobe is inadequate,” Prowl said, prompting another laugh from Jazz.
“My wardrobe is inadequate? Really?” He could say that after the sheer number of things (a number of which were sheer, and slinky, and sexy, and all kinds of other wonderful words) he’d already bought for her? “Well then. Guess I’ll just have to look around for something that meets with your approval.”
And, more importantly, her own.
Unconcerned with time, Jazz proceeded to go through every single shirt, skirt, and sundress she could find, tutting disapprovingly over the ones that were too tacky, too gaudy, too cheap. Prowl kept helpfully bringing over his finds, holding them up against her body and caressing her through the thin, flimsy fabric. It got harder each time not to just give in and buy something so they could leave and go somewhere they could dispense with clothes altogether, but she continued to reject his choices, unwilling to pass up the pleasure of being contrary.
Prowl didn’t mind the game. The proprietor knew better than to interfere beyond his initial offer of (unwanted, unnecessary) assistance, and he quickly occupied himself elsewhere while Prowl entertained himself playing dress-up with Jazz. She posed provocatively with each of his selections before invariably sending him away with a coy smile and instructions to “find something better”.
She was trailing her fingers delicately over the brassy metallic threads woven through a rich burgundy top with long bell-shaped sleeves, imagining how they would catch the sunlight on the beach and compliment her complexion, when Prowl brought over what he was sure was the perfect item. “If I might make a suggestion?”
“You’ve been making plenty,” Jazz said, turning to take in the latest. Light and fluttering, it looked like little more than a knee-length skirt with two over-long sashes attached to the waistband. “Why, Prowl,” she said, curious. “What’s this?”
“An infinity dress, I believe it is called,” he said, pressing it into her hands and positioning them to hold it at her waist. The color was perfect on her. “It is meant to be worn many different ways.”
“Is it now?” Jazz held still while he played with the sashes, trying out different configurations over her neck and shoulders. Aha! So that was how it worked. Multiple dresses in one! Though she could think of one configuration with those sashes Prowl hadn’t hit on yet that she just knew he would like. It would be fun to surprise him… “I think this one might just be good enough to buy.”
“Allow me,” he said, predictably, and Jazz put up a token protest before surrendering the dress. She was perfectly capable of making her own purchases, but it was nice to let him pamper and spoil her.
Just one of the many reasons she loved him.
“So,” she said once they were back out on the street, meandering slowly along the rows of clothes, handcrafts, and jewelry. “Should I try it on now?”
Prowl chuckled. “Is that an attempt to hurry me to the hotel so that you might change?” And then distract him from leaving again for the rest of the day?
“Not an attempt, as such.” Jazz wasn’t as unwilling as she had been previously to continue their shopping excursion. The market was a lot nicer than she’d initially given it credit for. Prowl had, she admitted silently, been right: once she looked past the shabby exteriors of the shops to the merchandise itself, she found herself fancying any number of things. “Why? Were you hoping it was?”
“I was… considering it,” said Prowl, studying her intently with his magic. Being blind could not keep him from seeing her, from taking joy in her smile. Not after going an eternity without it. Unable to resist, he caught her up in his arms, spinning her to face him. “You make a very tempting prospect.”
“Of course I do.” Jazz leaned into the embrace, pressing herself against Prowl’s torso as she rose up on her toes to steal a quick kiss. The barest brush of his fangs against her lips set her heart racing. “But you wanted to take me shopping, so shopping is what you get.”
“Foiled by my own plans,” Prowl said, amused, and took one more almost-chaste kiss before relinquishing his hold. “Then let us see what else there is to find.”
It didn’t take long for Prowl’s arms to become laden down with all of Jazz’s purchases. Some of them she insisted on buying herself — for work, she’d explained; tokens she could use to trade for future favors from those who took well to bribes — while others she had been perfectly happy to let him buy for her. She was particularly enamored of a delicate capiz shell jewelry box with its intricate metalwork, finely hammered gold seaming together pieces of shell to form the body of the box as well as the three-dimensional flower on its lid.
For his part, Prowl preferred the single, perfect camellia bloom she allowed him to place in her hair.
Hours later they finally exhausted every last corner of the market, and several boutiques the next street over besides. They stopped at a small cafe, sitting out on the terrace overlooking the sea. Jazz tucked into her meal with gusto. Shopping was hard work when you did it right! More than that, she wanted to make sure to keep up her strength for tonight. She had no intention of sleeping when they went to bed. “Think maybe it’s time we head to the hotel?” she asked when she was finished.
Prowl looked down at the impressive number of bags and parcels at their feet. “If only to leave these behind,” he said, perfectly happy to carry them for her but missing the ability to wrap his arm around her waist. “Perhaps, afterward, we could go down to the beach?”
“You just want to see me all wet,” Jazz teased, pleased at the subtle growl that earned her. Pushing her empty plate away, she stood and swooped around behind Prowl’s chair to lean over his shoulder. She imagined she could almost feel the point of his ear twitch as her breast pressed against it. “But you know,” she whispered, peering down over the top of his sunglasses at those burning gold eyes, “you don’t need to take me to the beach to get me wet.”
His hand came up to her neck so fast she squeaked in surprise, then laughed into the sudden kiss. “Mmm…” She let him dominate for a moment before giving back just as hard, careful not to cut her lips on his fangs. They still tingled as she drew back, flush and swollen. “See? You’ve proved my point.”
Prowl groaned. How was it she never ceased to have such a powerful effect on him?
“Ah, ah,” she said playfully, batting away the hand gliding up over her knee toward the apex of her thighs. “You said you wanted me on the beach, so that is where you will have me.”
“Foiled again,” Prowl chuckled, watching her dance away when he released her. “I ought to be more careful what I wish for, it seems.”
“Oh, you’ll get what you wish for,” Jazz promised, desire deepening her voice. “Soon.”
Yes. Soon. The hotel wasn’t far, and the beach only a short walk from there. Prowl reined in his body’s reactions while Jazz took the opportunity to steal the check, then loaded himself back up with all of her purchases. He was looking forward to seeing her in her new dress, backlit by the sunset on the shore, skirt billowing in the breeze.
He had not, however, been looking forward to being accosted on the way, but as soon as they turned down one of the narrower streets, a group of toughs materialized at either end of the alley, blocking them in. “Hey there, big spender,” their leader sneered. “How ‘bout ya throw a little of that money our way?”
“Or what?” Jazz tossed back, completely unintimidated. Idiots! Even if she was as harmless as she looked — not even remotely the case — these morons were no match for the likes of Prowl. “You’ll waste our time with a few empty threats before we teach you not to harass people in the streets?”
“Think you can teach us a lesson like that, sweet cheeks?”
“Please,” Jazz said with a derisive eyeroll, posing provocatively in blatant defiance of the man’s skeezy leer. “Anyone with eyes,” and even those without, she thought smugly, “can see that my best assets are up here.”
Prowl ducked his head, hiding his grin. She was enjoying herself, he could tell, despite being genuinely irritated by the interruption. That hand framing her assets so temptingly was also in the perfect position to whip out the hidden blade she had secreted away in that low-cut blouse, and Prowl knew she would use it without hesitation. Still, they did have them outnumbered. Carefully setting the shopping bags down so nothing in them would get broken, Prowl extended his senses to pinpoint all seven of the thugs surrounding them. Five men, two women; all in relatively good health, easily fit enough to pose a real physical danger to regular tourists. But lead pipes and switchblades were nothing to Prowl, and the only thing their lean, wiry muscle meant for him was a meal. The blood of criminals…
“Oh, I can see ‘em, lady,” the thug said, licking his lips in a way that made Prowl’s magic boil. He had no right to look at her that way! “Maybe we’ll take more than your money, if ya know what I— ahgck!”
“Prowl!” Jazz spun around, indignant. “I had it under control.”
“I know,” Prowl said calmly, much more calmly than he felt. He could feel the fear rising around him, delicious, as the gang’s leader clawed at his neck, trying in vain to pry away the invisible force strangling him. A dark chuckle rose in Prowl’s throat as his feet rose from the ground, one hand coming up to remove his glasses while the other reached out menacingly, solidifying his control over the human’s blood. “It is futile to resist, but by all means. Struggle. It will not change your fate, but it will significantly increase the pleasure I derive from your deaths.”
“Holy shit, he’s a vampire!” one of the others shouted, and Jazz had to fight the urge to laugh. If their fate hadn’t already been sealed, that one line would have been the nail in the coffin.
“You,” Prowl hissed, whirling in the air, “would dare,” his pupils glowed like the sun against the black of his sclera, fangs coming down fully into his mouth as his wings unfurled on his back, “liken me to such pathetic creatures?” He was nothing like those inferior corruptions, perfect only in their ability to die! “You will pay dearly for your underestimation and insult.”
Two of the thugs broke and ran. Three of the others stood their ground, preparing to fight, while the sixth froze in place, too frightened to move. Prowl took a malevolent glee in ripping the blood from the self-inflicted wounds on the leader’s neck, drawing the fluid out of him until he was little more than a dry husk before sending it out after those who sought to flee.
He truly was a sight to behold like this, Jazz thought, taking a second to admire him in his real form before tackling the thug who’d just hurled a lead pipe at Prowl’s head to the ground. Prowl deflected it carelessly with a flick of his wing, not hurt in the slightest, but Jazz wasn’t about to let the guy keep trying. “Moron,” she said callously, cracking his skull against the cobblestones until he lay still beneath her. “Can’t say I didn’t try to warn you.”
Behind her, Prowl had captured the runaways, reeling them in on ribbons of blood with slowly sharpening edges. They cut into their skin, sending new blood running along their length to give the primordial even more material to work with, and he smiled in mock benevolence as he pulled the garrottes tight around their bodies.
“Hey!” Jazz said, rolling to the side to avoid the severed hand that fell where she’d been crouching. “Mind the mess, would you?”
“I am,” Prowl returned, floating around to look at her with features framed by the red inner surface of his wings rather than the black, leathery exterior. Unlike a lesser vampire, his face was not distorted into a grotesque, monstrous visage by his transformation. “Not a drop has spilt on your purchases.”
“Oh, well, as long as the shopping’s okay.”
“Were you not already planning on a change of attire when we reached the hotel?”
“Because I was wearing this all morning on an airplane, not because someone saw fit to splatter blood and body parts on it!” Another of the two fighters came at Jazz, trying to capitalize on her distraction, and got her elbow to his nose for his trouble. Blood fountained from the injury as he staggered back, liberally spraying both her and her shirt. “Damn.”
“Allow me.” Prowl’s fingers curled in a grasping gesture, wrist twisting as he pulled his arm back to draw the fine mist of blood from her clothes and hair. Jazz shuddered, able to feel her own blood just barely being exempted from his powerful magnetism. Then, with a flurry of graceful blows, Prowl rained the bloodmist back on her attacker, hardening the droplets into bullets that tore through him and left his body laying on the ground in tatters.
Now the last of the three fighters turned on her heels, and the guy who’d frozen in place was down on his knees, babbling incoherently. Praying, for all the good that would do him. Jazz pulled her hidden knife and lobbed it expertly at the fleeing woman, embedding it in the flesh of her thigh with a dull, wet thud.
“Ahh!” She cried out as she went down, and Jazz stalked over to her to retrieve her weapon.
“You didn’t really think you were going to get away, did you?” she asked, wrenching the blade free.
“Nggahh!” The woman cried out again, tears of pain and fury tracking down her cheeks as she glared up from her sprawl. Jazz thought she was about to spit out some cutting invective, or maybe just try to spit on her, but then all the color left her face and her eyes went wide in pure, abject terror. Jazz glanced back over her shoulder in time to see Prowl slowly, even gently, lifting the gibbering thug off the ground on strings of blood like a puppet. His wings arched over them both, blotting out the evening sun until he was the poor man’s entire world.
“Justice has come for you,” Prowl whispered, almost tender as he tilted the man’s head back to expose the vein. “Surrender to its judgment.” Then, body humming with the heady pleasure of the hunt, of the kill, Prowl plunged his fangs into his neck.
The man gave out a cry so broken and desperate it sent chills down Jazz’s spine. She shuddered, then turned her own somewhat wry grin on the cowering woman at her feet. “Never do quite get used to that sound, no matter how many times you hear it,” she said pleasantly.
“Please,” the thug begged, trembling fingers grasping at Jazz’s ankle. “Please!”
“Please what? Save you?” Jazz shook her head. “That’s not up to me.” She stood, wiping her blade clean before tucking in back under her mussed shirt. “Make your appeals to him. Who knows? Perhaps he’ll decide to grant you mercy.”
With one last glance up at Prowl and his victim, hanging over them in their tableau of death, Jazz left the carnage behind her. He would catch up with her at the hotel easily enough when he was finished, and in the meantime, she needed a shower.
Sure enough, when she emerged from the luxuriously hot steam some time later, Prowl was there waiting. He was immaculate, no hint of the horrors he’d inflicted anywhere on him, and he’d left his sunglasses off. Jazz smiled and, heedless of the way she was dripping on the floor, crossed the room to where he was leaning casually against the wall and raised her hands to trace his scars lovingly. “Feel better now?”
“Considerably.” Prowl brought his hands to her curves, following the path of the water trailing in rivulets down her bare skin. She shivered. “Are you cold?”
“Just the opposite,” she breathed heavily, short hair hanging in damp tendrils around her face. Beads of water formed on the strands, rolling slowly to the tips before splashing down on her breasts. Prowl raked his fingers up over her torso to cup them in his hands, thumbing her nipples until he felt them harden. “And I seem to be wet again.”
“So I see.” He continued to fondle her gently, bringing his forehead down to hers. “Perhaps I will regret reminding you,” he said, angling their faces so as to just brush his nose against hers, “but I would be remiss if I did not ask: did you still want to go to the beach before engaging in more… amorous activities?”
“That’s not fair,” she gasped as he flicked his thumbs over her nipples again. “You don’t get to ask me that question when you’ve got your hands on me like that.”
“That begs the obvious solution,” Prowl began, then smirked when her hands flew to his wrists and clamped on firmly.
“Don’t you dare let go,” Jazz demanded. “You win. Forget the beach. Kiss me. Touch me. Now!”
Prowl chuckled. “As you wish.”
Kissing Jazz was never a hardship. Prowl gladly sealed his lips over hers, taking his time to taste her thoroughly before pressing his tongue forward to glide alongside hers. All the while he kept his hands on her breasts, hefting their weight and pushing them together until the firm mounds molded to the shape of his fingers. He rocked suggestively, letting her feel his length swelling against her as he mimed thrusting up into her breasts, stroking his thumbs through her cleavage.
“Mmm.” Jazz broke their kiss with a soft gasp of pleasure. “I think someone’s wearing too many clothes,” she said, setting her sights on the buttons of Prowl’s shirt. He’d already taken off his outer layers, ornate jacket hanging on the valet stand by the door to prevent it from wrinkling, but there was still a serious discrepancy in their respective amounts of clothing.
“I suspect that will not be the case for long,” Prowl said, only relinquishing his hold on her breasts to slip his arms out of his sleeves. He smiled at her as she flung the offending garment carelessly across the room. “My. So impatient.”
“And whose fault is it if I am?” Jazz winked saucily, then sauntered toward the bed. “Lose the pants and get over here,” she said, letting herself fall back onto the luxurious comforter. It wicked away the remaining water clinging to her skin, leaving the fabric slightly damp, but she didn’t care. By the time they were done, water would be the least of its worries.
She had just started to sit back up and ask what was taking Prowl so long when he all but materialized above her, weight settling onto the mattress so gently he could only have flown. Another shiver ran down her spine as he brought his lips, those fangs, to her neck, licking and sucking oh-so-carefully before moving on to trail kisses down her collarbone and breasts.
“Going to stay there awhile?” she teased, somewhat breathless, when he didn’t immediately move on from there. Prowl just grinned up at her, golden eyes glowing with arousal as he switched from lavishing attention on her left areola to the right.
“Ah! Prowl!”
“Hmm?” He hummed around her nipple, grazing the edge of a fang over the sensitive nub right as he dragged his thumb over another sensitive nub lower on her body. Jazz’s whole body jerked, but Prowl held her firmly, simultaneously helpless and in complete control. There was nothing he wouldn’t do for her, no pleasure he would deny her. She could make any demand in the world of him and he would comply.
For the moment though, Jazz was content not to make any demands. She arched her back off the bed, pressing up into Prowl’s hands and mouth. He was building the heat in her core gradually, occasionally dipping his fingers inside as he continued to rub over her clit. The way he focused so intently on her, worshipping her body with hardly a thought to his own pleasure, just did things to her. She could feel his arousal, hot and heavy against her leg, but it was like he barely noticed it himself. If she hadn’t been so busy twisting her hands into the sheets above her head, she might have tried to reach down and stroke him.
“Wings!” she demanded — okay, so she did have one demand after all — with a soft mewl of pleasure. “I want to see you, the real you.”
Slowly, almost as if they were materializing from the shadows at the edges of the room rather than growing out from his bare shoulders, Prowl’s wings unfolded over them. With them came a brightening of his eyes and a lengthening of his fangs, and when he looked up from her breast Jazz couldn’t help bringing a hand down to run her thumb over his lips, catching the pad against a sharp point just hard enough to sting without drawing blood. She felt him shudder, and the proof of his control sent a thrill through her. No one could ever convince her she was anything but safe in his arms.
Whatever was on her mind, Prowl could feel how comfortable she was in that moment. He crawled back up her body to kiss her once more on the lips, laying his hand over her heart to feel the pulse he could hear rushing in his ears. “Beautiful,” he said. “Absolutely beautiful.”
“You always say that.”
“Because it is always true.”
This time as Prowl moved back down he continued past her breasts, hands and fangs roaming over skin newly damp with a light sheen of sweat. He licked at the faint hint of salt, dipping his tongue into her navel before settling between her legs. What a treasure waited there for him! He paused to take in the scent of her, contemplating his next move.
“Am I beautiful down there as well?” Jazz asked, attempting to prop herself up on a pillow so she could watch him. With a light growl Prowl pulled her off-balance, rising up on his knees and bringing her hips with him. Jazz laughed, automatically bracing her legs over his shoulders and hooking her ankles behind his head. Now, laying back on her shoulders with his hands supporting (and blatantly groping) her buttocks, she had the perfect view of his head framed between her thighs. “Don’t just sit there,” she said, squeezing her legs in encouragement. “Move. Prove to me how beautiful you think I am.”
“Of course.” Prowl smiled, nudging the tip of his nose against her folds. “Show me your passion, Jazz. I would have you at your most beautiful.”
And then his mouth descended on her, lips and tongue and teeth. Jazz shouted her approval to the ceiling, begging him for more. He didn’t bite, but it was impossible not to feel his fangs against her skin, pressing her open so he could run his tongue over her, into her. Jazz cried out, muscles tensing as she tried to get closer. Her legs clenched around Prowl’s shoulders, dragging him in, and she felt him chuckle and tighten his grip on her hips to maintain some degree of control. She was probably going to have bruises there in the shape of his fingers in the morning but she didn’t care; all that mattered in the moment was the pleasure coursing through her veins.
For Prowl, that pleasure had a distinct scent, and more, a distinct flavor. While he preferred to feed off Jazz as little as possible, regardless of how much she pestered him to do it, he had to admit that the taste of her at the very peak of pleasure was nothing short of divine. But he would wait to feed tonight. There was more than one way to drink of her, and right now he had all he could ever ask for and more.
In their current position there was no way for Jazz to reach any part of Prowl but his knees, which was rather pointless, so she didn’t bother to try. Instead she went back to tangling her hands in the bedding, verbalizing every bolt of pleasure as it drove her higher.
She was getting close. Prowl could taste it on her, hear it in her voice, feel it in the way her legs were starting to tremble. He began rocking her against him, lifting her up toward his mouth with each carefully placed swipe of his tongue, creating a rhythm that would inevitably lead to—
“Ooohhh!” Jazz sang out as she shook her way through her first orgasm. Prowl basked in the sound, continuing to move with her as she rode the wave until her fists began to loosen on the sheets. Only then did he lower her to the bed, listening to the rise and fall of her chest as she worked to catch her breath.
“You are so good to me,” Jazz said, panting lightly, and reached for Prowl. She wanted him next her; hell, she wanted him in her, but that could wait until she’d recovered a little more. “Come here.”
Prowl took her hand, then let out a huff of surprise at the rather impressive tug she used to drag him down beside her. She wiped at the fluids covering his face, getting a majority of it with the corner of the comforter before finishing the cleanup with a series of somewhat sloppy kisses.
He was still rock hard. Jazz brought a hand down over his erection. “You promised earlier to indulge me,” she purred, reveling in the hiss of pleasure that escaped his lips as she stroked him. “Are you going to keep that promise?”
“Yes.” One of his hands was back on her breasts, but the other cupped her face tenderly. “How would you have me take you?”
“Completely.” Jazz stroked him again. “Utterly.” She pushed at his shoulder, telling him without words to roll over on his back. Rather than risk crushing his wings, Prowl simply wrapped his arms around her and floated up into the air. Jazz let out an exhilarated laugh as he rotated them, gently settling back down onto the bed with his wings spread comfortably beneath him and her straddling his hips. “It’s like you can read my mind.”
“I do what I can,” Prowl rumbled, determined not to rush her no matter how much he ached for her. His length lay upright against the plane of her stomach, so close and yet so far from her warm, tight heat. She was rocking against him gently, back and forth, each time rising up a little higher on her knees. Eventually she’d get high enough that when she came back down—
“There,” he heard her sigh, swivelling her hips and taking him in right down to the hilt. “That’s the sound I love to hear.”
Had me made a sound? He hadn’t noticed.
“You know,” Jazz said, watching the emotions play across his face, “I’m not the only one in this room who’s beautiful in passion.” Maybe it was cheating just a bit to say so now, when he was clearly in no state of mind to argue, but Jazz would take her victories where she could get them. Now: to get him to use those fangs properly!
She set an excruciating pace, riding him slowly like she meant to be all night at it. Prowl lay still beneath her as long as he could, but there came a point it wasn’t enough. He needed more contact, needed to have his hands on her. With a pleased gasp that was anything but a protest, Jazz let him pull her forward over his body, changing the angle of her hips. She still had control of her thrusts, and while she couldn’t take him in as deeply in this new position, there was one perfect, shining tradeoff.
“Oh! Prowl!” Jazz shivered as Prowl brought his mouth to her nipple, gently cupping and squeezing her breast with his fingers. She was, as they had both remarked many times before, just the right size to fill his hand, and she could feel herself tightening with the additional stimulation. But, “As— Ah!” she gasped, jerking at the soft graze of teeth, “As nice as that feels, that’s not where I want those fangs.”
“And where is it you do want them?” Prowl murmured, smiling around his mouthful. He knew exactly what she wanted… but he wanted to hear her say it.
“I want… I want!” Jazz fought to keep her movements steady, rather than speeding up. She didn’t want to climax without him! “I want you to bite me — bite me, mark me, fill me as you drink your fill! Oh, Prowl!” She threw her head back, baring her neck as she went over the edge. With a fierce, possessive sound that defied description Prowl went for it, abandoning her breast in favor of (at last!) piercing her skin and sealing his lips over the bite. She could feel her essence flowing into him as he emptied his into her, creating a cycle that was pure ecstasy.
She didn’t know how long their state of shared bliss lasted. In the hazy afterglow Jazz felt Prowl lift her off him and lay her beside him, licking gently to seal the wound on her neck. He hadn’t taken much — he never did — but she still felt dizzy, drunk on their combined pleasure, and so was content to lay there until the world finished coming back into focus.
“…Looks like I’m going to need another shower.”
Prowl chuckled. “You say that as if it was not already a foregone conclusion when we started.”
“Oh, I knew it was,” Jazz said, threading their fingers together and giving Prowl’s hand a squeeze before getting up. “But the sooner I get clean, the sooner we can get dirty again.”
“And what about me?” Prowl asked, letting her pull away and pad softly over to the shower. “Am I to join you, or remain ‘dirty’?”
“We won’t exactly get clean if you follow me,” Jazz replied with a teasing laugh. “You can wait your turn. I’ll get dressed while you rinse off, then we can go down to the water. We’ve missed the sunset, but that’s no reason not to explore the beach.”
Prowl would have preferred another round of lovemaking under the warm spray of the shower, but he didn’t argue. They had the rest of the weekend, after all.
When he stepped out of the shower some minutes later, Jazz was waiting for him. “So?” she asked, twirling in front of him. A light fabric fluttered with the movement, creating a soft breeze across his skin. “How do I look in my new dress? I know the sashes are meant to be tied up to cover one’s… assets,” she said, coy anticipation practically dripping from every word, “but I thought, since it’s a private beach, I might forego such modesty.”
Prowl drew upon his magic at the same time as he reached for her, wanting, needing to see. What he found had his lips turning up in a grin. She’d looped the sashes multiple times around her waist, tying them in a bow behind her back to walk around completely bare-breasted.
Jazz giggled at his obvious approval. Gently she took his hands in hers, lifting them away from her bosom to press into his chest as she leaned in to whisper, “Guess what other modesty garments I’ve decided to forego.”
Barely banked desire kindled into a brightly burning flame, Prowl set off after her as she danced away. The sound of her laughter was a beacon as he chased her across the sand.