“Don’t,” he said before kissing her forehead tasting the salty sweet sweat he proudly pulled from her. “You’re amazing.”
“Thank you,” she said shyly. He kissed her hungrily as he pulled her body upon his. He pulled himself from her swallowing her protesting noises in their kiss. He’d happily stay stuck in there all night, but he didn’t know how comfortable she’d be with that.
“Now, according to our agreement of splitting everything in half, I believe the next round will be on me,” he said with a dangerous smirk.
Feelings of anticipation and nerves flooded her system except this time the anticipation drowned out any fear left behind.
“You’re on, buster,” she winked at him before sleep overtook them both as they lay with not an inch between them.
Sookie woke to the incessant buzzing of her cell phone. She scrambled to her side of the bed where she had left it plugged in. A sleepy Eric tried to hold her body in his vice-like grip before she successfully wiggled out.
“Let it ring,” he murmured while rubbing at his eyes. “They’ll call back.”
She wasn’t having it, knowing only two other people had this phone number. She wasn’t going to let either of them reach her voicemail.
“Hello?” she spoke almost out of breath while being met with the hum of a long distance line.
Sookie was still enticingly naked sprawled over the sheets, and lying on her belly. Eric kissed up the spine of her back as she attempted to listen to Claudine. His hands roamed on her sides softly caressing her curves. She was trying hard to focus on her phone conversation, but she had to apologise to Claudine for her sudden gasp as she felt him poking her from behind. She gave him a warning glare over her shoulder, and he just shrugged with a smug expression. The poking did cease much to her relief.
In an uncaught moment, he rolled her over causing her to shriek out through the phone line deafening poor Claudine’s eardrums. She looked ready to spit nails as Eric continued to kiss the front of her body. She apologised, again, to Claudine, making up some story about a bird hitting the window. When his attentions started focusing on her wet slit, she muted Claudine after apologising.
“Eric Northman,” she hissed while kicking her legs free. “You stop this right now or I swear to God what we did last night will be the last time.”
He moved off her immediately at the threat and continued to pout like a small child. Her arched brow indicated she was less than impressed by the display.
“Go order us breakfast or something,” she admonished before she got back to speaking to Claudine.
He got up out of the bed grumbling something about how she was supposed to be breakfast today before walking into the living room naked and painfully erect in search of the dining menu.
After she had hung up and slipped on Eric’s ruined dress shirt in lieu of pyjamas, she found him frustrated and bare on the sofa.
“Poor baby,” she mocked, leaning in the doorframe with poorly hidden amusement. “You’re cute when you’re mad.”
The sight of her in his shirt made his just softening erection stir into action again. He pulled her towards him immediately, determined to continue where he left off. Before he even managed to latch his large hand onto one of her breasts the doorbell rang and he cursed in a string of Swedish. She couldn’t help but laugh at his misery a little while she sprinted off to the door.
“Eric, cover up!” she yelled over her shoulder.
“What the fuck for?” he grumbled. “We’re in Sweden. The only Swede not to be shocked by a naked body is a blind Swede.”
Sookie just gave him a stern look, and he demonstratively placed a throw pillow in front of his morning tormentor. It wasn’t what she was hoping for but she opened the door nonetheless.
She directed the young man at the door to the dining room so he only had to glimpse slightly at the naked giant on the dainty sofa. The man took exceptionally long setting up all the cutlery and linens whilst the food was kept warm in the special caddy. She rushed him out the door soon after he was done and tipped him far more than she should for the suffered embarrassment of Eric.
“Eric,” she yelled out into the living room. “Come on, breakfast’s ready.”
“I’m not hungry,” he returned still disgruntled.
She walked into the living room with the buttons of the shirt undone, a canister of syrup in her hand.
“Are you sure?” she asked as he took in the vision before him who poured the syrup across her chest.
“Fuck,” he gulped with wide eyes. He tossed the throw pillow aside, and followed the dripping trail of syrup to the dining room. She lay herself down on the unset part of the dining table where he greedily lapped up the sticky trails from her body after which he greedily sucked down on the sweetness that lay between her thighs.
He descended on her like a man possessed, strewing the carefully placed linens and silverware onto the chairs and floor as the table shook with their carnal pleasures. The little porcelain vase holding a single flower rolled dangerously over the table surface as he thrust into her, but it never managed to fall to pieces.
“That wasn’t fair, älskling,” he breathed heavily into her ear as they came down from their subsequent releases. “This time was supposed to be my turn.”
She giggled at his childish behaviour. “Guess you owe me two then,” she said while lightly swatting his butt. “Come on, let’s eat. I’m starving.”
He protested a little until he finally gave in and sat down at the table with her. She objected to his nudity at the table, so he draped a napkin demonstratively over his lap daring her to argue. Sookie was too hungry to argue for more. She placed everything back on the table somewhat resembling the original place setting. She pulled the still warmed plates from the caddy before they sat down to enjoy their breakfast.
“The Brigants are all coming down to the family compound in Switzerland this spring,” Sookie informed between bites. “I told her I’d come down if I was able.”
“Sounds good,” he spoke distracted, his mind going through the possible scenarios he was going to entertain her with before that.
She looked down at his shirt that was now also covered with syrup. Her hair felt like a bird’s nest and she realised the make-up she put on never made it off last night.
“I must look frightening,” she gasped with the realisation.
“Fuck, no!” he responded immediately. “You look fucking delicious.”
“I’m a mess,” she whined a little whilst scrunching her hand through her hair.
“Yes, a fucking delicious mess,” he grinned as he reached over the table to kiss her. “I can’t wait to clean you up in that giant tub.”
“Really?” she challenged. “What are you gonna do in the meantime? That thing must take at least half an hour to fill up.”
Pam had been right in her assessment that Eric would hardly let Sookie out of the room. The only time she managed to convince him to release them from their self-imposed prison was to allow housekeeping to clean up the messes they created, and all things pertaining to the apartment.
Sookie left behind far too much tip money for the cleaning ladies every day to abate her guilt over the state of the bed sheets. She quickly discovered there was little to stop Eric seeing her as a ‘fucking delicious mess’ all over the suite. She prayed to God she never had to look the cleaning staff in the eyes during their stay.
Soon they were approaching the last night of their vacation. The apartment was clean and painted fresh again with extensively argued colours. Eric’s cave was now painted in the appropriate colour after going through an extensive amount of paint charts before he settled on the nearest colour of his desires. Sookie had been far from agreeable at his suggestion to have her nipple colour scanned at the paint shop to get an exact match.
Much of the furniture was still to be delivered, but they had shopped for the essentials at IKEA, an experience they would both sooner forget even though they did end up coming out of it unscathed at the end.
Sookie had scoffed at Eric’s warning that a couple’s visit to the furniture store was considered the ultimate relationship test. She couldn’t help but agree with him after or with his assessment that it should be called the nine circles of hell.
They had finalised their plans to join the Brigants in Geneva in a couple of weeks. Sookie had been excited about it and Eric had been happily indulging her. She even reached out to her brother over the phone and they had slowly started speaking again. Jason had been quite relieved that Connor Thompson had disappeared from her life. She told him she was backpacking through Europe and they promised to speak again soon.
When they had visited Halina earlier that afternoon, it was the first time she recognised Susanna as Sookie. It had shocked them both when Halina said she was happy to see her grandson so happy with her. Goderick had asked them if they knew this ‘Sookie’ Halina had kept talking about these past few weeks when they were gone. Sookie hated having to hypnotize the kind man any further, but there was little at this point she wouldn’t do to ensure Eric’s safety.
“Sookie, what’s this?” Eric asked while he held Russell’s letter in his hand when they were packing up their meagre possessions.
“Oh, I completely forgot,” she replied. “Russell wrote that for me. He told me not to read it until after the service. I forgot all about it till we got back here.”
“You haven’t read it yet?” he asked, handing it over to her. “I can leave if you want privacy.”
“It’s ok,” she said with a small smile. “I doubt it’s something he wouldn’t want you to know about. He would have told me so.”
She sat down on his offered lap while opening the letter, allowing him to read along.
My dearest Ms. Stackhouse,
I apologise for not addressing you as Sookie. I must admit I have my reasons. When we spoke of my first meeting with you, I know I confused you. You see when I first met you, you were an adorable little girl with your little sundress and mop of tight little curls. I also distinctly remember you telling me to refer to you as Ms. Stackhouse because you were a lady and should be addressed as such. I believe you were seven at the time.
So you see my little lady, I had a hard time calling you anything else. Whilst your gumbo is certainly nothing to sneeze at, I can say it is as good as your grandmother’s. I also wish to thank you for your care and kindness not only of me, who lay undeserving of it, but for my family as well, regardless of blood that is what they are to me. I don’t know what transpired between you and Eric, but I hope you two find your way back to each other. I do not think I have ever seen him happier than with you. It salved my heart a little to know that the damage I inflicted upon his life can be alleviated by your presence. That he is capable of love.
When I look upon what lies between you both I am reminded of a quote. Antoine de Saint Exupéry who owned that other Little Prince. He once wrote, ‘Life has taught us that love does not consist in gazing at each other but in looking outward together in the same direction.’
I beg of you; even if you two cannot love each other by each other’s side, on my behalf, please care for him from afar. If my faith in the two of you is as unwavering and true as I feel it to be then I urge you to name your first little prince after me and Russellina has a nice ring to it for a little princess… I jest, of course, hoping to soothe your heart for what I will tell you next.
The true reason I write to you, and have not spoken these words aloud and why I know it is faith that you and my dear boy found each other. The reason why only he could open his heart to you and only you.
I regret to inform you your parent’s death was not a natural one as you may have previously thought.
I would have preferred to keep this from you. In my experience, a death believed to be induced by the hand of God is a more conciliatory one than by the hand of man. The only reason I reveal this is because the man who ordered their death was the same man who ordered the death of Eric’s family.
It is my involvement in your parent’s death back then that earned me the job in Stockholm. Your parents didn’t die at my hands; I was working with another at the time. I was simply the clean-up crew then.
You might remember me as the mysterious travelling salesman that discovered your parents’ bodies washing up by my campsite. The heroic tales of my attempted resuscitation of them both earned me a seat at your grandmother’s dinner table. In reality, I was the one who swept up the messes. I met you because I couldn’t resist the temptation of a home-cooked meal and some Southern Hospitality.
Perhaps you don’t remember me at all, I assume the events surrounding those days and nights were traumatic enough. I wish you will remember me well enough from these last few weeks, for I have and will. Your kindness and grace have given my last days a lightness I never dared hope for and helped ease me from the fear of what is next.
As for my journals, do with them what you will. Perhaps my little Raven will find comfort in them when she is older. Should things ever come to strain between her and Eric, you have my permission to tell her all. I rather her to think ill of me, than of her brother.
I ask not for your forgiveness. I now know I don’t need it and I know that because of you. Goodbye, Ms. Stackhouse, you are quite the lady.
“I’m sorry, älskling,” he said as he soothed her heaving body.
“Eric, you don’t understand,” she sobbed. “Jason and I were supposed to be in the car with my parents when the flash flood took them. Gran always said at least an angel was looking out for the two of us.”
He held her tightly as he continued to let her grieve.
“I think you should cancel on the Brigants,” he said softly. “Their interest in you and your brother is worrisome.”
“No,” Sookie replied evenly, all possible tears expelled from her body. “I now know exactly how you spent your last sixteen years. I need to know why.”
“I won’t have you going alone,” Eric said with worry in his voice. They had discussed it and it had seemed the most sensible approach for him to investigate nearby while she ingratiated herself with her ‘family.’ That was before he found out she had been targeted when she was still a young child. Just as he had.
“It’s too dangerous for you to be there. One of their family members wanted you dead,” she said with equal worry.
“He wanted us both dead. At least he won’t recognise me.”
“I worry for you,” she said with her head resting against his chest.
“Not half as much as I worry for you,” he returned with a soft kiss to her forehead. “You need a protector there.”
“Ok,” she sighed. “I can’t believe I felt such guilt being related to Dermot Brigant.”
“Blood doesn’t dictate family, älskling,” Eric said. “Family is who you choose to make your life with.”
“That sounds good,” she sniffed. “I want to call Jason.”
“Are you sure you want him to know? I think Russell was right in saying it is better not to know the truth,” he observed as he tenderly ran his fingers through her hair. “Look how upset you are.”
She shook her head, “I just want to hear his voice. Feel close to my brother,” she explained. “I also wanted to ask him to pick up a stack of letters from the safe deposit box in Monroe. I think Fintan wrote those to my grandmother. She always had them in her jewellery box but I never read them.”
“I’ll have the key and codes sent over by special courier,” Eric said.
“I’m sorry I ruined the last night of our vacation with my weeping.” She pouted a little with her words. He couldn’t help but take hold of her protruding lip and kissed her with all the care in the world.
“It was my curiosity that led you to read it. I take full responsibility.”
She rolled her eyes at him, “Will you ever stop being such a martyr?”
“I have no intentions of dying,” he remarked dryly.
“Good,” she smiled. “I wouldn’t know what to do without you.”
Short and sweet sales pitches:
In case you haven’t seen it yet the Fangbangers Anonymous: The TB/SVM Directory is up and running and it’s been keeping me busy these past few months so check it out!
The You Want Blood Awards are accepting nominations, you don’t have to nominate me but be sure to get them out there. I have been instructed to inform you all that under this year’s rules all my stories (well maybe not Beehl the Constipated Cat, you’d have to ask on that one) are eligible for nominations and since I started publishing from June 2014 I am also eligible for a best newcomer nominee. You have until this Thursday midnight (May 8th) to submit your nominees. Voting will commence the 15th of May.
The Fanatic Fanfics Multifandom Awards are accepting nominations from various fandoms from today (May 4th) till May 18th. After a previous nomination round the TB/SVM category as a whole actually came out on top so be sure to help represent us all there with your nominations.
Area 5 Bloody Pen is hosting a Historical Fiction contest, twelve impressive entries are ready and waiting for you to read and vote on until the 15th of May. You probably think I’ve been to busy to enter a competition, you may be right, you may be wrong.
Thanks as ever to msbuffy for her continued encouragement and work on this, and that’s the only demand I’ll make of any of you for nominations. She deserves the nomination for Best Beta more than anyone else as far as I’m concerned, so be sure to do that and vote for her!
A/N: …and after all that info, back to the story at hand: there were some revelations in that letter of Russell’s so… thoughts? (And feel free to share your IKEA horror stories, I have too many that I wish not to recall…)
Since we’re still stuck in the hotel room interior porn below for those of you who enjoy that…