Updating (Mat) - U.S.S. Freedom

She whimpered, shivered with anticipation. Her typically warm body was hot, her sex already slick from his teasing.

He pulled her back into him slowly at first, or at least until he was securely inside of her. Then it what she knew of him - the violence, the raw passion, the primal need. His right hand clamped down on her throat, pulling her towards him with both hands, shoving himself into her as far as he would go.

She would have howled out for him, if the hand around her throat hadn't cut that off. Instead she could only writhe against him as she was taken. Claimed.

Once the tissue inside of her was torn, once he could get as deep within her as he could without too much tearing, the grip on her throat would release, would relax. He would lean back, rather than being hunched over her, his right hand mirroring his left to be on her smooth hips. He could pull her harder back against him, could go harder into her with that grip. And he proved it.

She angled herself so he could slip as deeply into her as possible with each thrust. Her thighs shook as she pushed backwards, meeting him with quite a bit of force of her own. She growled softly as they found their rhythm.

It had been far too long as he almost sighed as she pushed back. Feeling her react was as good if not better than having her ask for him. It was something between a sigh and a growl as he watched himself disappear inside of her, felt her shift. The grip loosened for a moment on her hips, his rough hands simply spread across her skin as they moved together, feeling her without clothing in the way.

The strangely gentle exploration of his hands elicited a different sound from the Brujah. She sighed softly, shivering at the combination of sensations.

Man and Beast. He bridged the two worlds. His original need was sated the moment he filled her, that sensation need quelled. Now... they could play. His hands wrapped around her torso, swimming and moving around to cup both her breasts, to pull her off of her hands, pull her back against him as he continued to take her.

She was flexible, easily moved into whatever position he desired. She continued to grind her hips into him, the muscles in her thighs working to balance her as she moved against him. One hand snaked back to rub his thigh, the other reached down between her legs, her fingers toying with her sensitive and aching little button.

Once more, his teeth found her skin harshly, pressing into her collar. His hands squeezed her chest, moving her by those handholds, encouraging her to move faster, harder. By the sound of things, he was enjoying it more than simple rutting. It had become more than just an act.

He continued to surprise her. Going with his lead she pressed back harder and harder against him. Each deep penetration sending shivers through her body. HEr fingers moved faster, flicking and teasing herself, adding to the pleasure.

You could teach an old Beast new tricks, it seemed. Or perhaps it was the act of claiming that inspired him, or the need that was summoned from the depth of the Ocean, from the Earth itself. His large hands curled more, a quiet shockwave running through his frame. He had learned to let go, it seemed. He did not know that he was immune to the chains of blood, as his teeth broke her flesh in the state of release and orgasm that currently flooded his frame. He simply wrenched his face away in that moment of bliss, a stain of red across his ruddy cheek as savored the pleasure, even the weakness that came with finishing.

Part of her wanted to scream out 'NO' as she felt hit bite deeply enough to draw blood. But the shock of it did something else and she found herself rushing towards mutual orgasm.

Most times, after they had been intimate, he would simply move on to the next task, as if being with her was on a checklist, or something that simply passed into the flow of things. It was in his sea-born nature, after all. But as he finished inside of her, watched her blood slowly trail down her flesh, the path splitting and parting before rejoining, he seemed to be in hurry to move the little waif. His fingers itched, declared their want to maim and tear into her skin, to claim and mark her as his own. A branding through pain, through scarring. But as his own body and soul had begun to change, had begun to mend the wounds that were caused during his brief stint as a living person and torn again through his second rebirth, the claws were caged, stilled and calmed. Instead, a kiss was pressed to the center of her back, as he spoke of what he wished her to do.

"cum."

The surprise at his unusual request pushed her right over the edge. She began to shake and shiver as her own orgasm washed over it.

He was certainly not the first to cause she emotions in her, such feelings - they were simple and biological. He had come to understand that, learned it, listened and heard others. His Mother. Even Roux. The thick arms, biceps ever scared with the ropes that were used to bind him as a child and a youth, wrapped around her, as if trying to keep her grounded. Or perhaps he just wanted to feel her tremble and twitch, feel, smell and experience the pleasure found in another. It was still a strange phenomenon to the Gangrel whose eyes were nearly iridescent in the darkened galley, two twin coals which illuminated his ruddy features. He would continue his possibly comforting grip until she had ridden both him, and her own orgasm to the end.

It took a little time for her to finish shaking and shivering. Throughout it all, little gasps and moans filled the air. The arms around her were a welcome gift. They helped support her, made her feel secure, even in her weakest moment.

When the trembling was done she reached up with one hand, trying to link her fingers with his.

The linking was easily given, welcomed even. He rested his chin on her unwounded shoulder, cradling her form against his own. He wore a content smile, perhaps even a cocky one. Another kiss was placed on her throat as the rumble in his chest spoke volumes of how he enjoyed the act.