Who: Whale, Zoe, Jekyll, Charlotte (?)Where: SB Hospital and Zo's home
When:A few months after the events of Halloween
Notes: None (?)
It was hours before he was finally able to sit, let alone have a drink of water. And he thanked his stars that he had been blessed with a siren's strength that allowed for his recovery to get him this far after waking. With the feeding tube out and the doctors sure he could breathe on his own, he'd been focused on tryingn to recover some control of his limbs, stretching and flexing what he could of his body bit by bit. By the end of the day, he had managed to lift his head, he could pick up a pencil with shaky fingers, and he could even lift his legs off the mattress for a bit before strength failed and he plopped back down like a ragdoll.
He might be looking at a full recovery, the doctors hypothesized. If he was patient. And followed their direct orders. And by the scowl on his face, it was clear he was none too pleased about someone in his department taking charge of his health.
And as he recovered by the third day, he began to wonder just where exactly everyone was. Neither Jekyll - and most importantly, Zoya, had made it out to see him. With the exception of Deputy Ariel and Sheriff Swan, he'd hardly seen a welcome face. And with so little recollection of who his assailant was, the trauma of the events having been blacked out, they didn't linger much except to wish him well on his recovery.
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"Please stay." *bats eyelashes seductively at OTL*
"Must you really leave?" Victor asked, wrapping an arm around the small of her waist as he came up behind her, his free hand sweeping away rich, dark tendrils before his lips danced over the slope of her neck, his lungs breathing in her scent.
Normally, with past lovers, he couldn't get rid of them fast enough. But he found that with Zoya, he not only enjoyed her company, but needed it. He didn't just crave her body, he craved her soul, her smile, her laughter. The quiet conversations in bed that at times surpassed their lovemaking, and the rare mornings he found her tucked into his frame.
"It's frightfully cold for you to go out there on your own at this hour." he murmured between light, slow kisses. "And we could keep each other warm for the night." he breathed, teeth tugging at her ear. "Please stay." he asked, not wanting her to leave so soon.
In a town this dull, it wasn't difficult to convince Zoya to meet him in the local tavern for a game he had in mind. Sure, their evenings - well, weekends - spend at his estate were good fun. And they had plenty available to keep them busy. But the rush he got from just the idea was enough to convince him this was certainly something he needed to do.
It would be something small, they agreed. Nothing too risky as it was their first time, and they didn't want to risk their game being ruined too soon. With a pint in hand, Zoya remained silent the first half hour, letting the adrenaline quell for a bit before she decided she was ready. Not a problem for Whale, as it allowed him to work how he was going to find his way up the layers of clothes she wore.Â
Once she gave a nod to begin, he smirked, maintaining his gaze in her as he continued their conversation, tone casual as his hand rifled through her skirts and up her legs. They were seated close, a bit too close than would be considered polite. But that was due to discretion. "Just remember, my dear Zoya, you need to stay quiet as a mouse. At least till we return to my house." he teased, fingers brushing against her inner thigh as a palm began to part her legs.Â
"Shhh" he warned her when a faint whimper left her lips. "So, tell me about your week." he asked, fingers beginning to tease at the edge of her mound, her skin warming as arousal began to slowly pool between her thighs. A smirk graced his lips as she continued on, his eyes soaking in the pink dusting over her cheeks as she tried to remain calm. Fingers went further, now running down the wetting velvet. "Lean back a bit." he whispered, grinning wider as she quickly shifted in her seat to permit him easier access.Â
"Mhmmm. And then what?" he asked, encouraging her to continue recounting her week. Something about the idiot mayor. Fingers slipped deeper, prompting Zoya to grip the side of the table. "He's a bastard, you can't expect much." he shrugged, his thumb brushing against her clit, causing a whimper to leave his partner's lips. "You are getting quite wet." he murmured, leaning close to graze the curve of her ear with his teeth. "But aside from the mayor coming to seek something for that balding head of his, did your mother have any other visitors of interest?" he asked, fingers curling against her walls to solicit another whimper.Â
"Whale!" Zoya hissed, both hands now gripping onto the table, jaw dropping as he continued to spoil a saturating mound.Â
"Yes?" he asked, pulling away from her neck to take in the sight of her. The sheen of sweat glistened against her reddening face, jaw setting as she took in the feel of him inside her.Â
"Get. Out. Now." she hissed. He pulled back, alarmed. Perhaps this wasn't the best idea after all, he thought as he let her skirts fall back in place, his hands wiped clean on the hem as he sat back.Â
He opened his mouth to ask if she was all right, but felt her grasp his hand and lead him out of the tavern, practically sprinting out of there. "Zoya, is everything---" he began asking before she rounded the corner and slammed him against the wall of the adjacent building. Her silhouette pressed against him. Lips crashing against his own in a bruising kiss.
"Home. Now." she gritted, rolling her hips against him before she rushed them both back up the hill to the estate.Â
A grin, curved by child-like glee spread across his mouth. They stopped every few steps to exchange kisses, to grope, to tease, and upon passing the main gate, to undress. They teased and threw accusations as to who was more eager, more wanton. His coat trailed behind halfway up the road to his home, her shawl hung on a tree branch. There would be a roaring fire to welcome them home, after all.
But they couldn't even make it to the steps before Zoya gladly fell to her knees, her mouth moving along the proud and hard length of her doctor as he remained wedged between her and a tree, his fingers tangling in chestnut curls. A playful shove sent her on all fours, her skirts propped around her waist as he fell to his knees after her, pushing himself into a flushed and saturated mound. Moans escalated to cries, their names entwining as friction sought to finish them both.
