| Subject: WTTS2 - 85c (warning: NC-17!) |
Author:
KT
|
[
Next Thread |
Previous Thread |
Next Message |
Previous Message
]
Date Posted: 22:36:28 01/11/02 Fri
In reply to:
KT
's message, "Window to the Soul 2 - More (splitting the thread *as requested by Sanlin*)" on 21:52:29 01/11/02 Fri
Window to the Soul 2 - Part 85c (Warning: NC-17!)
By KT
Copyright January 21, 2001
At Nikita's remark, strange look came over Michael's face. "Yes," he posed softly, "you without a piano..." He turned an amused eye on her. "Now that is an image I have a hard time with." It was true. In his mind, Nikita and her instrument were hand in glove. Funny how the image of her in a wheelchair was one that he had unwillingly but actually come to accept.
Michael looked at her again, some secret emotion flitting over his face. His body moved to one side, but he kept a leg thrown possessively over hers, and his hand reached out to turn her face into his. He kissed her tenderly, his eyes bright with love. His whole heart delighted in the fact - she could walk! Nikita started to kiss him back, but he shoved the covers off them and rose, taking her along with him.
"Hey!" she protested, but he pulled her hard against him and silenced her with a probing kiss. "Mmmm..." was all she could manage after that.
Michael reached for his gray sweats. He donned the bottoms and handed her the top. It was too big, the sleeves too long, but cozy. He was spellbound by the way her hair was wild from their lovemaking, and by the little-girl look of her in his sweatshirt. Nikita caught his eye and felt a slow blush rising. The ache between her legs was radiating heat throughout her body. She closed her eyes as she savored the sensation. Michael put an arm around her waist and drew her close.
"Nikita..." he whispered, his other hand smoothing her spiky locks.
Nikita's arms snaked about his neck and she let herself sink into his eyes, their steady light warming her whole being. She basked in the calm that was stealing over her heart. Life had dealt her so many hard blows, yet had bestowed her with great musical gifts, and now had led her to share herself with someone in ways she never had before. She let her emotions spill over into her eyes and into his.
Michael steered them to the kitchen and made a fresh pot of coffee, letting Nikita attend to the tea. Some of Walter's croissants appeared from a bag and he warmed them in the oven. They sat close to each other as they breakfasted, talking about music.
"Thank you, Michael," Nikita said, licking the last of the flaky crumbs from her fingers.
"You're welcome," he responded over the rim of his cup, watching her tongue catch each finger. "Temptress..."
He set down his cup and was about to lean in for another kiss, when Nikita put her hands on the edge of the table and stood up on her own. She turned and walked carefully through the living room to Michael's practice corner, reaching for his cello. She plucked lightly at the strings. At the sound, Michael peered curiously across the room, then came to her with a soft smile.
He took the instrument from her hands and sat down in his practice chair. "Sit in front of me." His knees spread as he made room for her. Nikita sat, her back against his chest, her hips tucked into the vee of his thighs. Michael's arms came round her as he placed the cello against her shoulder and put the bow into her hand, covering it with his as he guided her in the basic strokes. The strings came alive as he fingered a simple scale, then placed her other hand under his, showing her the spacings between the notes.
The scale changed into a simple French folk song, and Nikita smiled as she felt the vibration of the strings under her fingers. The moves were simple, the notes few.
"Let me try," she said, but Michael continued to guide her until they had played through the whole melody a few times. Then he reliquished the bow into her hand and placed her fingers on the strings, withdrawing his hands from the instrument and instead, placing them on her hips. Nikita began to articulate the notes, but they came out scratchy.
"Put more pressure on the bow," he instructed.
Nikita laughed lightly as the notes began to take shape. She experimented with the scale, and tried simple intervals on all the strings. It was easy to find the tones, but difficult to make them sing.
"Now, press the strings harder, so they don't buzz."
She followed his direction, managing to produce some truer tones, but her fingers weren't toughened to the strings. Nikita was struck by the way their vibrations resonated in her body simply from the cello's proximity. She suddenly realized how hard it would be to hear the other instruments in the orchestra with its sound filling her ears so completely. She stopped playing and turned her head.
"I think I just learned something. How hard it is for you to hear over your own instrument. At the piano, I don't have that problem, even though it's louder than other instruments. My ear is above the sound instead of right next to it."
Michael nodded. "It's not too difficult when you and I play one on one. But it becomes a whole other problem in the section." He gave a low laugh. "Thank God for the conductor." He took the bow back and let the cello rest against Nikita's shoulder as he played for her. Her hands came to rest on the tops of his thighs and she let herself relax against him, closing her eyes as the music filled her senses.
Michael set the cello and bow aside. The warmth of her was just too tempting. The expanse of her neck enticed his lips... his hands crept under the sweatshirt until their palms grazed the curve of her breasts. His thumbs delicately circled their hardening nipples, coaxing them to rise and tighten. The exquisite teasing stirred his body.
Nikita turned her head. All of her soul-searching thoughts dissolved, and she was simply immersed in sensations. Her teeth grazed the line of his jaw, and she watched his eyelids drop and heard his breath come short. She turned sideways and draped her legs over his thigh, her arms circling his neck, her fingers threading their way into his hair, her mouth taking his with tender fury.
Michael's hands continued to play over her skin, alight under his touch, growing more urgent with the passing moments. They stood and made it as far as the futon. They collapsed together, breathlessly kissing until they both had to come up for air. Nikita tangled her legs with Michael's. Her feet no longer felt like pin cushions, and her toes were working their way under the edge of his sweats. Their bodies wrestled as they shed their clothes, and they rolled off the futon and onto the cold floor.
They lay looking at each other, panting and grinning. Michael went to the bedroom and grabbed the comforter off his bed. He spread it on the floor and Nikita crawled onto it as he stood over her, clearly aroused, daring her to make the next move. She wrapped her hands around his ankles and tugged. He fell in mock surrender and lay next to her. Nikita raised herself on all fours, then stretched her body to cover his.
"My turn," she whispered hoarsely, as she captured his erection between her legs, then raised herself up slightly to place him just at her entrance. She moved until the tip of him was just inside her. Her eyes held his as she let him in a little more, holding him there as she froze the moment. His hands spread over her derrière as one of hers reached down to feel the place where his body disappeared into hers. They were so close...
"My first... my only... true love..."
Her teeth found his lower lip, his tongue found hers, and they breathed raggedly as Nikita took in a little more of him. Michael's heart pounded at her words and he pushed upward, but she refused to relinquish control. She gave him ground until he was halfway inside, then suspended the moment again with another devastating look. Michael raised his head to kiss her, and as their mouths joined in open warfare, Nikita slid down once more, taking him into her completely. There was a point of pain, then pleasure, then she broke the kiss and sat up.
The depth of their joining made Michael gasp as he pushed hard into her, but she took over their rhythm, moving mercilessly, bringing him to the brink of orgasm, then slowing to hold him there. His hands reached up and caressed her breasts. Nikita slid a finger inside, feeling how close he was to coming. Then it was her turn to catch her breath as she felt Michael's hand pressing against her center of pleasure.
When he touched her, she could feel him lose control. Her finger pressed against his most sensitive spot as she increased her movements, pushing him beyond his endurance. Their eyes locked, then Michael's closed and he groaned as he came, his spasms surging against her finger. Nikita let herself join him, moaning his name as he led her over the edge with his touch, buried deep within her. She lay down, her skin alive against his, breathing in sync with him. They came down gradually, still joined, and drifted in and out of sleep, stirring every so often to gaze into each other's eyes.
Love flowed. They were complete once more. The silence of the outside world reigned, wrapping them in its comfort. The snow was their saviour, giving them its gift of respite. They snuggled together, speaking in hushed tones as they shared their thoughts and feelings. They were in no hurry. The day stretched before them... no demands, no pressures, no routines...
* * * * * * * *
[
Next Thread |
Previous Thread |
Next Message |
Previous Message
]
| |
Feedback: 