| Subject: Kiss and Make Up - Some More... |
Author:
Genevieve
|
[
Next Thread |
Previous Thread |
Next Message |
Previous Message
]
Date Posted: 01:04:27 12/26/01 Wed
In reply to:
Genevieve
's message, "More Kiss and Make Up - Revised, but still as naughty..." on 19:35:32 12/18/01 Tue
A sudden sobering thought intruded. He must have heard all the crappy songs that I was singing in the shower!
She kept her eyes tightly shut, her breathing escalating rapidly as she heard his boots thud onto the wooden floor boards, followed by the soft whoosh of material moving against skin.
The mattress suddenly sagged under his weight, startling her. Looking at him beside her, her heart suddenly turned over. No clothes. O-kay. Her heart was thudding so loudly in her chest she felt almost embarrassed, certain that he would actually be able to hear it. She turned her head and drank in the sight of him, her spirit soaring as she watched him. Four weeks was a very long time to go without looking at him, without touching him.
Michael didn't take his eyes off her the whole time he was ripping his boots and socks off, the sight of her bare rosy flesh suddenly making it even more difficult to take his trousers off quickly without damaging himself. He felt ludicrously clumsy, like a schoolboy dumbstruck at his first glimpse of a naked woman. All those months of surpressing his true feelings, hiding behind Section's demands and rules.
Months? Years. An eternity. Too long, far too long. It made his reaction to her now that much harder to control. The depth and fierceness of his need for her worried him at times, made him feel too vulnerable. It was a hard thing to get used to, being able to show her exactly how he felt.
Nikita lay quietly, her senses only aware of the sound of Michael's steady breathing, and the feel of his hands on her skin. Would it ever stop, this rush of love, this unconditional longing for him? They both bore so many scars, still held so many dark memories in their hearts. She felt her stomach tighten with apprehension. Would being together ever be enough to exorcise the pain of their shared past?
She turned her head away from him slightly, her cheeks suddenly wet with tears. I'm such a fool. These were the thoughts that ambushed her mind in the darkness when she was alone and sleepless. Shadowy doubts slipping into her heart when he wasn't there, that constant fear of losing him that wrenched her heart open, leaving her miserable and exhausted the next morning.
Michael had closed his eyes when he touched her skin earlier. And now, it felt like slick marble under his suddenly unsteady fingers. For all her bravado, he sensed an unhappiness in her, a melancholy that she was trying very hard to stifle in front of him. Love makes you notice too much, he thought as he ran his hands down her back in long steady caresses, feeling her body gentle and grow still under his touch.
Ten hours ago, he had been caught in the middle of a guerilla ambush, his shoulder suddenly burning with a pain so intense that he almost blacked out. He had sat on the muddy floor of a humid jungle, fading in and out of consciousness, and dreamt of her, feverish imaginings that were now fuzzy in his mind. He wasn't sure if he was actually going to tell her how badly the mission had really gone. He didn't want to think about it now. All the mattered was Nikita.
She sighed as she felt his hands on her skin, moving down her back in long soothing strokes from shoulder to hip, down to caress the backs of her legs. Her head dropped back to her pillow in sensual defeat as she felt something else, a waxy nub gliding over her skin, tracing the outline of her spine. It was the oddest feeling, his left hand touching her, everywhere, while he trailed the strange writing material of his choice over her back.
"What are you doing back there, writing an essay on me?" Nikita tried to swallow the tears in her throat, but her voice still wavered.
"No." Michael leaned down and pressed a kiss to a warm shoulder, the tiny hairs on the back of her neck rising up at his touch. The familiar smell of her shampoo teased his nostrils again and the natural scent of her skin was slowly breaking down his control.
He kept one hand on her back while he made a few quick strokes with the most unusual pen that he would ever use. His eyes raked down the length of her body, taking in the broad shoulders, the long clean line of her back, the swell of her breasts pushing against the pale sheets. What a beautiful canvas...how Monet would have envied me.
"Only a few Chinese characters that I know. Many people have these as tattoos." His voice was strangely subdued. She could feel the short strokes gliding over her skin, his movements a soothing caress over her tense shoulder blades and spine.
"What do they mean?"
He stopped, and she felt his hand touching her face gently before stroking her head, his fingers tangling themselves in her damp hair. "Strength. Courage." She heard him exhale, a long release of pent-up emotion that seemed to reach down and wash over her. "Love."
The tears welled in her eyes again, as she felt his mind brush against hers in the dimly lit room. How well he knows me. He always sensed when the pangs of self-doubt and unhappiness had her in their grip, and he always, always brought her back to him. A shuddering wave of warmth had Nikita pressing her hips into the bed, aching for him so much that she could no longer stand this waiting.
She rolled onto her back suddenly, taking him by surprise. God, he is so beautiful. The white bandage on his shoulder stood out in stark relief against the warmer tones of his skin. She smiled innocently at him as she wriggled closer to him before trailing a hand lightly down his smooth chest.
Michael's breath caught in his lungs as Nikita almost purred at him. "I certainly hope that you will be washing these sheets for me in the next wash? I don't really fancy having lipstick stains all over my bed." Her casual tone belied the fact that she was now running her hands up his tensed thighs. Oh god. His eyes closed in defeat, his breathing jagged with the sheer overload of sensation.
She watched his chest rise and fall rapidly. His arousal was evident, the unyielding hardness of his erection brushing silkily against her thigh as she caressed him, teasing but not quite touching.
"But, of course." He bowed his head to her and smiled, the light-hearted exchange breaking up the almost overwhelming weight of emotion pressing down on them. His eyes raked into her face intently as he suddenly straddled her body, the soft hair on his thighs brushing against her too-sensitive skin. She gasped as she felt the cool stub of the lipstick touching her nipple, circling, teasing. Eyes closing, her back arched, her hands clutching for him...
"Nikita." She opened her eyes at the sound of the roughly-uttered word, reveling in the sight of the naked hunger on his face.
"Does it kiss off?"
#*#*#*#*#*#
[
Next Thread |
Previous Thread |
Next Message |
Previous Message
]
| |
Feedback: 