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Winter's Dance	By : Meghan Category: Anita Blake > Het Views: 3008 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own the Anita Blake series, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
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Anita moaned sinfully into his ear, a sound that promised passion and sex. Asher pulled her tighter to him, staking his claim on her with both hands and lips. He kissed her mouth, her cheeks, her eyes; his lips traveling up the line of her jaw, nuzzling her just below the ear.

Her fingers dug through his braid, pulling the hair loose at his temples. His hands confidently plucked the buttons of her deep red coat until he could splay the fabric. They did a side-step dance as she copied his actions and fully pushed his coat off him. He backed her up against the door.

Anita jumped in the air and wrapped her legs around him with a playfulness that made him dizzy. He kissed her again, harder and deeper, trying to convey to her the emotions she stirred within him. She tilted her head back, angling their kiss in a new more satisfying way.

Bracing himself against the door with one hand, he fumbled along the hem line of her turtleneck and slipped his other hand underneath. He cupped her breast firmly and ground his hips into hers. She moaned loudly into his mouth either from the feel of his hand or the feel of his erection or both, Asher could not tell and didn’t care.

Her hands raked through his hair again, getting stuck somewhere in the back amongst the tangled strands of his wrecked French braid. Golden hair fell around his face, but Asher didn’t notice as he shifted his attention once again to her neck. He could feel the heat from the rush of blood flowing in her veins and smell the scent of her sex. Together they drove him wild with lust.

“Ma chérie, your holster,” he murmured, rubbing himself against her again, delighting in the friction.

“Oh right,” she murmured huskily, reaching down between them to struggle with the holster and gun.

When she loosed them, she unzipped her jeans and tried to shimmy out of them and her panties. Asher helped by reaching behind and pulling off her boots and tossing them onto the metal grate. She kicked off her jeans then and after that it was quick work to unzip his pants and release his hardness. With her legs wrapped tightly around his waist, it was a simple matter of shifting their hips and angling himself into her slick warmth.

He thrust all the way inside, slamming her hips against the cold metal door to the club. A pained noise from her and he quickly slipped his hands beneath her hips and her coat, supporting her weight. He slid inside again, tilting her hips to meet his thrust so he plunged in further.

“Je t’aime!” she cried out as he pounded into her again and again.

Her words filled him, driving him on as he groaned gruffly in response. His hips smacked into hers faster and faster until the movement between them blurred into a singular sensation fogging their senses. He came suddenly and forcefully inside her. She cried out loudly at the feeling of him emptying himself into her.

“Ma chérie,” he whispered against her neck, before pulling back his lips and plunging his fangs into her soft skin.

“Asher,” she called head back, her hips stilling as the orgasm swept through her.

He drank from her, and spilled himself in her, and made her scream in ecstasy in an endless cycle of ardor and passion. The feeling of her legs dropping from his hips stopped him and he pulled back. Without his weight Anita fell down. He caught her in his arms and wrapped her coat more securely around her.

He hastily fixed himself back inside his pants before bending down and gathering her jeans and his keys in one swift motion. His body pulsed with the warmth of their activities and her blood coursing through his veins. Hurriedly he got them inside and down the hall into his office.

Asher settled them onto the leather couch and draped their coats over them, using his hands to rub warmth back into her skin. Anita smiled sleepily at him as he took off her vest and slipped on her panties. He tugged her close and closed his eyes. He could still taste her in his mouth.

“Good night, Asher,” Anita sighed, her eyes fluttering shut.

“Sweet dreams, chérie,” he returned, pressing a kiss to her hair.

Never in his wildest thoughts, would Asher have thought that his dreary evening would turn into this. He wouldn’t change a thing though, he thought, watching Anita drift into sleep. She made his life perfect.

End.
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Winter's Dance