I do not own any of these characters. Daine, Numair, their friends and their setting are all the brain child of Tamora Pierce. I thank her for letting me give them a different, more adult voice.
He had been driving her crazy for months now. Daine had agreed to take things slow, sure, but she hadn't thought "slow" meant that while he awakened her body to all the new sensations he could elicit from her, she couldn't touch him at all. He wanted her. She could see that for herself when they lay in bed together, or when he ran his hands over her body. After pleasuring her, he always spent some time alone in the washroom, and she didn't need firsthand experience to know what the quiet sounds from behind the closed door meant. But whenever she tried to push his loincloth down, or even just run her hands over the bulge in the breeches, he caught her hand and moved it away. Or distracted her with his own ministrations. And though she didn't mind being the centre of attention, and certainly enjoyed the feel of his hands and his mouth running over her, she wanted more.
Daine wanted to explore his body, too. She wanted to hear him moan and cry out, and know that she was the reason. She wanted him to make love to her, to satisfy the deep ache in her body that was now left behind every time he took her over the edge. She wanted all of him, and she knew that she would have to be the one to do it. For whatever reason, he was scared to move any further with her, and she had to show him that it was alright.
Numair was in agony. He had wanted Daine for so long, and she was so close now. He could touch her, he could make her cry out. He could kiss her, dance with her, sleep next to her... It was the stuff his dreams had been made out of. But he couldn't bring himself to take that final step, and every time he stopped himself, his self control weakened even more. He wasn't sure how much longer he could hold out, but he knew that he must. She was so young, so vulnerable, and he was so afraid that he was manipulating her, forcing her into a life that she didn't truly understand and wasn't old enough to commit to.
He woke up every day from dreams of her, rock hard and panting before he had even made it out of bed. When she slept next to him, the pressure was almost too much to bear, and he had taken to slipping out of bed and into the bath before she was awake in an attempt not to disturb her. He found his mind drifting back to her throughout the day, to the way her face looked when she came, the sound of his name on her lips, the sculpted beauty of her battle-hardened muscles. He tried to focus on his work, but he couldn't escape her. She was everywhere, and he was in trouble.
She came to his rooms that night after dinner, slipping in and closing the door behind her. He wasn't expecting her, and for a moment she was afraid his rooms were empty, but she heard a clanging coming from his workshop and peeked inside. He was testing something with his magic, battering it over and over again with blasts of black and silver. As she watched, he engulfed the whatever-it-was in flames, pouring magic into them to make them burn until they turned white with the heat. Suddenly, as though satisfied, he clapped his hands and the flames disappeared. He walked towards the centre of his room, towards whatever he was working on, and reached out to grab it. Daine cried out, afraid, perhaps irrationally, that he would burn himself on something that had moments ago been on fire. He turned at the sound, black and silver magic glittering around his hands, ready to protect himself or fight.
One look at Numair was all it took to knock the wind right out of Daine. Power rippled around him, and sweat created a light sheen on his lovely, dark skin. His long hair was out of its holder and tumbled around his shoulders, curling slightly from the damp heat. His chest was bare under his black robe and his breeches clung to his body, showing off his tight muscles. He was gorgeous: dangerous, strong and handsome, alight with the joy his magic brought him. She had never seen anything so delicious in all her life.
He took three long strides and swept Daine into his arms, pressing her close to him and kissing her long and hard. She moaned his name and wrapped her legs around his waist, pushing herself even closer to him and lacing her fingers through his hair as she attacked his mouth. She was desperate to feel his hands on her, dying to know what it would be like to be touched by this wild man who barely resembled the mage she knew.
He read her mind. Still locked in that kiss, he stumbled backwards into his bedroom, kicking the door to his workroom closed before collapsing onto his bed with Daine on top of him. She pulled at his robe, whisking it off as he shifted to help and raking her nails down his chest. He snarled, flipping them so that he was on top, stripping her down with little care for her clothes. It took mere seconds for him to lay her out naked before him, but it had seemed like an eternity and he snarled as he made his way down her body, licking and massaging as he went. He raked his teeth over her hip and across her thigh, coming to rest between her legs. He slid his hands under her, lifting her off the bed so he could access all of her. As he pressed his tongue deep into her folds he groaned, feeling her wet heat and knowing how desperately she wanted him.
His movements, usually so delicate and deliberate, were frenzied. Hands groped at her breasts, rolling her nipples between his fingers hard enough to pinch while his mouth pulled and suckled at her core. The sensations washed over her, stronger than she had ever known them to be, and she allowed herself to be completely pulled under by his desire. She had come tonight with a plan, but all thoughts had been wiped from her mind under his erratic movements. When he spoke, waves of heat washed over her, and his words sent shivers down his spine. "Come for me, Daine. I want to feel what I do to you. I want you to say my name as you come."
This was a different side of the man she loved; he made her feel sexy and powerful, knowing that she had finally snapped his control. She had always known that he was strong, but she was just now learning exactly how strong he really was. He had pinned her to the bed, and she couldn't move... Not that she wanted to. She had always loved what he did to her, but tonight was different. The speed and intensity of his movements made her see stars, and his roughness was an amazing contrast to his soft skin and warm tongue.
She groaned loudly, feeling her orgasm approach. The sound spurred Numair on, and he sped up the pace, pushing her towards her end faster and harder than he ever had before. She bit her lower lip as she sucked in air, trying to hold back, to let the pleasure go on and on, but suddenly it was too much. She called out his name as she sailed over the edge, grabbing his hands as she bucked her hips and spasmed wildly. Still his ministrations went on, and instead of relaxing, her body jacked off the bed as she came again, even harder than before.
He loved the taste of her as she orgasmed. Almost spicy, it was uniquely hers, and he took pride in the fact that he was the only one who had ever made her feel that way, the only one who knew that taste, knew the sound and the smell and the feel of her ecstasy. He wanted to go on between her legs forever, but she was gasping for air and he knew that she needed to calm down before he could wind her up again. He slid up her body, eyes raking over every inch of her body. When he looked into her eyes, though, he saw tears rolling down her cheeks. Wildness instantly forgotten, he looked her over again and saw the red marks he had left on her sides, and blushed with shame when he realized how roughly he had treated her. It had been too much, and now the woman who trusted him with her life was crying. He pulled her close, needing her to forgive him, to understand that it had been a lapse in judgement, that it would never happen again, and as he opened his mouth to apologize, to explain, he felt her hands running up and down his sides, her nails teasing him mercilessly as they whispered over his skin.
Daine's hands moved lower, tickling his thighs and running over his butt. As she squeezed he groaned, and the smile that spread over her face from that sound was radiant. She brought her hands around to the front of his breeches and ran a finger up and down the hard length underneath. Numair squirmed under her touch and arched his back up, pushing closer to her, asking for more. She moved to remove his breeches and loincloth, to touch him completely for the first time, but as her hands began to tug the fabric down he leapt away, tumbling off the bed and throwing himself into the chair that sat opposite.
Daine was devastated. Had she done something wrong? Had she hurt him? He had bolted away from her, and he was sitting apart, staring at her intently as though he was angry with her. The tears that had come from her intense release turned to tears of sadness, and she pulled her knees to her chest and rolled to her side, rocking gently as she sobbed. She couldn't even truly say what was making her so sad, but she felt as though she had lost something dear to her, as though her heart was breaking. She felt alone. Suddenly, warm arms wrapped around her and a bare chest pressed against her back. Strong hands found hers and laced around her fingers, cradling her tightly, protectively. Numair's voice whispered into her hair, calming her, reassuring her... Apologizing to her? She shook her head to clear it and listened more closely to what her mage was saying.