| Subject: Relishing the Burn. (6/6) Thank you to everyone who read. I trust the wait was worth it. |
Author:
delle
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Date Posted: 16:41:39 08/04/01 Sat
In reply to:
delle
's message, "Embarressingly delayed, but it's done. Thanks to my kind and gentle betas for suggestions and hand-holding. I'm putting my disclaimers in the open, because - believe me - I mean every word of them." on 12:50:28 08/03/01 Fri
***
In a small secret part of my brain, I still wonder if I should trust him.
Then he holds me close. I hear his breathing stutter in my ear and feel his body shudder. And I realize that for right now, this moment, he is as vulnerable to me as I am to him.
That doesn’t forgive the past, or promise for the future. But for this instant it is enough.
Rage and lust were a powerful concoction. The mixture coursed through his veins, searing any remaining control or resistance he might have clung to.
Control.
It was his mantra, the watchword by which Michael Samuelle had lived his entire adult life.
But the anger, the complete and utter rage always lay beneath, never diminished, held in check only by the barest of restraints.
And today it was teetering on the edge of release.
Only Nikita’s obvious distress and her own barely-contained fury enabled him to keep his temper in check.
The wrath was contained, funneled and transformed by the necessity of keeping Nikita in control of herself. If she refused the mission, if she did not comply with instructions, she would be cancelled. And that was an outcome Michael would not let happen: whatever it took, whatever she needed, he would provide.
Having collapsed onto her belly after her last orgasm, her head was turned so she was facing the pane of mirrored glass opposite her. Without being able to see her eyes, he knew she would be staring, radiating her hatred at the watchers. He would never convince her it was unwise to expose her emotions. Leaning forward, he felt her quiver under his chest as he laid his lips between her shoulder blades. She shifted forward to lie completely on the bed, first on her back, then flipping on top of him as soon as he lay down. Tipped over him, her blonde hair fell about her face, shielding them briefly from the prying eyes.
“Seulement,” he whispered, and watched her eyes change, the incandescent fury subsiding into tenderness. Seulement… only you. By necessity the statement was left unfinished. She understood, and they would not.
“Toujours,” she responded, her voice low and husky. Always and forever, only you.
She moved fractionally forward, over and onto him. Her heat engulfed him, ignited him, destroyed him. He clenched his hands into fists to prevent himself from exploding immediately.
Rising up on her knees, she began to ride him slowly. The friction sent thunderbolts of craving ricocheting through him. The barriers teetered and cracked, scalding desire nearly overwhelming his faltering self-control. His fingers dug into her thighs, enforcing momentary stillness, fleeting restraint.
One hand slid down, over the curve of her breast, the convex curve of her hip, then dipped between her legs. Fingers extended, he reached for the tender place where their bodies joined; finding it, he stroked her gently. She responded to his touch like his cello, her pulse vibrating beneath his fingers like a plucked string, her body as strong and resilient as the maplewood of his instrument. The last traces of rage left her eyes; they blurred and glazed in passion. Her breath hitched and shuddered as she peaked, her body clenching around him.
Enough. No more. He will get no more. He rolled, putting her under him, shielding her from their scrutiny. And surrendered to the craving.
Two thoughts echoed rhythmically through what remained of his conscious mind as his body drove to climax.
I will kill him. I swear.
The sound of her soft groan in his ears. The heat of her body under him, around him. The whiplash pain/pleasure of his own need.
White light flashed before his eyes and he surrendered to her.
When he was more aware of his surroundings, he could feel his heartbeat pulsing through his body: head, heart and cock throbbing in the same rhythm. The rage had cooled and coalesced, settling into a ball of icy determination.
I swear.
I swear.
I swear.
Fin.
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