Hold Me Down

[Penelope Blaise]

This connection was making her skin burn more than walking into the sunlight, more intoxicating than the high that came with a fresh kill and flowing blood. When was the last time she felt like this? Never, she was sure. Hands pressed to either side of her face like they belonged there, because they absolutely did.

Instincts made quick work of her own hands, as it felt like they moved on their own accord. Nails dragged to the front of her shirt, squeezing in between the little distance between them only to pull at the fabric with force, ripping buttons rather than take the time to undo each one.

[Lucy Serrano]

There had been a kind of intention in Lucy's mind not to let it get anywhere deadly or dangerous. This girl had pressed lips against her own more times than one, like it was the truest indication of what she was getting at with every implicating sentence that poured out of her mouth. The snap of a thread to the flannel shirt she wore rang in her ears with or without the help of a heightened sense of hearing. Then it was more than one, and she seemed to lose sense of how bad that was in the long run.

Because she couldn't talk. So she couldn't ask.

She let go of the face she held like the idea was traced from a set of instincts that weren't exactly her own. There was a kind of burning to the fact that she let go at all, and in any other moment it would have been a great indicator that she was well and truly done with whatever progression had taken hold of the not-so-stoic older vampire.

But Lucy's hands filtered to the remnants of her broken clothes instead, fingers curling in as she peeled it back from her shoulders and eased her arms through. Once it was off, it landed somewhere in the shattered notions of a broken easel, and it left her mind completely.

[Penelope Blaise]

For someone who could usually keep up with such a fast pace, this was entirely different. Her hands worked faster than her mind could; it felt blurred, despite the adrenaline that pumped through her veins. With an open shirt, the vampire pressed her hands to decorated ink. Skin to skin.

She hadn't even needed to finish removing the material, for she took care of it, flannel ruined much like the easel it now shared space with, but she didn't care. What she cared about was what remained on this girl.

Lips broke away from Lucy's, but there wasn't need for a breath. Instead, she used the distance to press a kiss to the young vampire's neck, exactly where she had the first time. And to mimic it, she forcibly sunk her teeth against her skin.

[Lucy Serrano]

Now free of what was essentially the only shirt she had left, Lucy didn't seem to think twice about the fact. She was slow to let her hands reached for her again, but now that they were out of their prior fold, she felt control was a dwindling myth. When she did reach out, her fingertips started low against the bare nature of her legs. Up to the break point at the hem of her skirt, where she brushed against the fabric as opposed to underneath it.

She instinctively parted her lips with every intention of saying something wining the break. Surely there was something she could manage to give that could falter the passage of time as it were.

But in the same notion, she turned her head and applied pressure to a particularly sensitive point. "F-" She threatened, but her teeth sank into her lower lip instead. No matter how overwhelming this was, Lucy wasn't about to talk if she had the means to control herself.

[Penelope Blaise]

The sound she made was intoxicating, even it it had been cut off before a full word formed. It felt well and truly like a challenge proposed. One she was determined to win. Penelope Blaise was, after all, a boss. The boss.

Yet those hands against her legs had her mind reeling. Skin burning. And then they were no longer there, instead dragging across fabric rather than where they properly belonged. It brought a snarl to emit from the back of her throat, bordering a complete growl before she forced a step, nearing the door Lucy had just been trying to step though.

[Lucy Serrano]

Was that resentment Lucy heard amongst a muffled sound? She almost thought to laugh, but drawing back remotely didn't feel like an option; not even for a moment.

A step had Lucy moving backwards, away from the mess she had caused and into the one she had left waiting. There had to be a kind of aggression in the way the older vampire moved. For someone who devoted themselves to looked poised, she was suddenly so far from perfect.

There was an obvious layer between herself and this person who'd been so negative over a show of potential disinterest. When her own hands landed at her waist, fingertips could feel the edge of an easy zip. Drawing it downwards, she barely stalled at the base of it before heavy, stronger hands ripped down the rest of the fabric to save her having to step out of it.

[Penelope Blaise]

After the display she herself had put on, it shouldn't have come as a surprise that her own clothes were torn. As her skirt ripped, she felt the cooler air force a reaction to her heated skin. Her shoulders rolled back in response, feeling a falter in her normally perfect footing. Patience dwindled quickly for Penny as she turned the form she held onto, instead of making it to any particular destination, she pushed Lucy against the closest wall with enough force to crack the drywall.

And those hands only stayed where they were for another second, because they were very quickly moving to her waist, where she grabbed hold of the leather wrapping around it, forcibly pulling her belt off entirely.

[Lucy Serrano]

Lucy knew where a series of steps were taking her. It was the very room she'd once woken up in; the only bed in the entire home, she was sure. And she felt prepared for it by way of no resistance to the fact.

But a shift in footing had her turned instead, then slammed into the closest available wall. Heightened hearing could catch the break in the dry wall better than the rest of her body could. Despite how bad it was, and how it added to the broken nature of this once perfect building, it was exhilarating all the same.

She was forced to hold on with the break in her own belt, fingertips quickly switching to nails that cleared bright red paths across her skin as they delved beneath the cover she still wore. Strength in hands was something she still couldn't control, but the thought of making a self-healing individual bleed was more than just foreign, wasn't it?

And for someone so devoted to keeping her mouth shut, Lucy proved useless at maintaining any vow of silence. Though she gave no words, she carried enough of a boisterous presence without having to make coherent sense.

[Penelope Blaise]

Nails against her skin were strong enough to make her seethe, but the pain was like some sick for of encouragement for the vampire that already couldn't stop herself. The break and the wall meant nothing to her, despite her better judgement about damaging her own home even further. It was something to think of later; her mind couldn't keep up now.

She was so fast to snap the only remaining button on her form, but patience couldn't allow her to remove the skin tight material that clung to Lucy's legs. As much as she hated those jeans still on her, Penny's nails dragged just as harshly down the young vampire's skin, carving past a set of sparrows before ducking beneath the band at her hips.