| Subject: Chapter 224 - Part 1 (18 and above) |
Author:
KatherineG.
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Date Posted: Wednesday, February 22, 07:10:06am
In reply to:
Katherine Gilbert
's message, "Dreams in the Dark (chapters 221--?)" on Monday, February 13, 07:24:07am
Extra warning: This part contains heavy, sensual content; sorry if it's a bit shorter than usual. Still, do not read, if you're underage, where you live. 18 and above only.
Dreams in the Dark (224/?)
by Katherine Gilbert
This wasn't turning into the night either of them had suspected, their emotions probably dangerously uneven, of late. They had gone from nearly closing in, giving up, to the sorrow of Nikita's crying fit, and on to much more tender confessions. Now, they were caught in another, far more beautiful way--one neither of them wished to leave. But it wasn't one that they had ever expected from their return to this once-tormenting place.
Still, the kiss negated all fears, as it lingered--quickly becoming deeper, more powerful. In only a few seconds, all the old passion was reborn, their traumas temporarily forgotten, as they realized one, essential truth. This was what both of them needed in order to heal.
They didn't bother to discuss the fact, their bodies and souls acting for them--leaving their minds to analyze later. But it wasn't quite the same old heat which drove them--certainly not the incendiary kind which had startled them both in the weeks before the attack. There was a tenderness now, a need for reunion. Even if it mixed with an unquestioned desire for one another, there was something slightly more delicate in its approach.
They moved steadily toward the reunion both of them wanted, then, neither wishing to discuss it. Their hands smoothly removed their partner's clothes, with every bit of help from the one being undressed--the kiss only breaking long enough to dismiss some unneeded article or another. And this determined unveiling had its usual effect, both partners utterly aroused by every tender, revealed inch of their one lover. Soon, both of them rediscovered the entirety of the other's naked flesh--and all of the love and desire such a gift had always given.
If it were in Michael's plans to be entirely tender and lingering with his partner, however, she dismissed them quickly. Even as he was joyously kissing his way down her body, his head swimming with the need her very presence, her enticing scent, always gave--his passion highly tinged with the soul-driven relief of having her safe, of having her as his own--she only allowed a few moments of such introductory pleasures. She couldn't even understand it fully, but she did know one thing; she needed her partner. Even a small prelude to a reunion would drive her crazy now.
He only kissed each tender nipple once, beginning a sensual descent, before she stopped him, her body aching for him in full, as she began to realize the truth. The fear, the pain, the threats of permanent separation they had suffered through these last few days left neither of them with the desire to be slow. It was her husband she needed, in all of his passion and strength. Any lingering temptations, no matter how lovely, would only be a frustration now.
He met her eyes once more, not entirely understanding her motives, shaking with the need to please her, as she pulled him back up; he propped himself on his arms above her, trying to see what she needed. In truth, he wasn't simply attempting to please her with his desire to explore her form, wanting every bit of her he could have--but he saw her own desires quickly. What she needed now--what both of them did, really--was a reunion; he smiled tenderly, giving in. Any reintroduction to every joy of the flesh and soul could wait till another day.
Still, he paused there, making her whole body shake, as she ached for him--and she saw what he was unconsciously waiting for. As usual, her beautiful husband was almost two different lovers at once--one tender and lingering, the other fiery and demanding. Right now, with all she had gone through--with all his obvious fears for her--he wanted to be the former; her hand stroked over his cheek, in a move as old as their sensual bond, controlling the beast which always called for her in him. But it wasn't a lengthy reunion either of them truly needed.
"Please," she whispered, letting him into her soul, and his eyes closed with the knowledge of what she wanted--discovering a deep sense of relief within himself. It seemed too beautiful right now. After all the fears and terrors, all the pain and miscommunication, they were finally back in this place which had long defined their love. And what she wanted here wasn't a thorough redefinition of who they were.
He knew all this, had seen it in her gaze, and had to hold himself together in order to look at her again, almost frightened of what he would find--by how much he wanted it. Perhaps she wasn't looking for the kind of fierce love they had enjoyed in their days prior to the attack; perhaps neither of them were quite capable--worn through as they were from their sorrow--of such lengthy, and feral, devotion. But what she did want was a melding of the deeper, less conscious parts of their souls--the ones which craved the most intimate, unadorned union. She just wasn't ready to have either of them please the other in any ways but the ones they ached for the most.
He could see all of this now, felt it in her, his gaze roaming over her beautiful face, as the truth of her presence, of their safety, sank into him at last--the relief overtaking him. She was here, truly here, with him--in this home they would make their own once more. And she was just so perfect, was everything he would ever desire; his look moved into her, remembering one more, achingly-tender truth. She was carrying his child; he felt the tears sting at his eyes, as they closed. Oh. Dear. Christ.
It was this last thought which won him, unhinging him completely, an ache of need for her surging through his blood. It was just far too much. That this beautiful woman had ever agreed to marry him--especially given all the terrible opposition they had faced--amazed him still. That she wanted him, welcomed all the neediest, less human parts of him, seemed a miracle; his eyes opened, glowing at her. But that the child which grew inside her was his . . .
This truth was enough to make him crazed, his joy in her presence too much, the aching blood pounding through him, beating hard in the part which throbbed to connect them most. He wasn't certain if it were simply some sort of primal need to claim her as his own which held him most or the tenderness of his devotion to her, his amazement that she would give him such a gift. And it was only the thousandth of so many she had offered, her body never knowing any other man's touch; he could feel the ravaging thanks searing in his eyes--a red glow appearing before him, drowning out all sense, all memories of the past but one. Several nights ago, another man had tried to touch her; the look glowed almost dangerously. But this woman would always be his to please as he wanted.
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