Title: Rapture
Author: Kirachii
Disclaimer: I don't own em' I just write about em'.
Warnings:
You
And Your
Obscene
Intentions
Type: Smut
Jibber Jabber: I don't remember why I thought about this. I believe I was watching the movie "Dangerous Beauty" and the way she acted towards her first time kind of inspired me. I'm still very much pure as the freshly fallen snow…so…if I get descriptions wrong…uh…sorry.
Songs That Inspired This Fanficion:
"Rapture" By Iio – "I'm mesmerized in every way. You keep me in a state of daze. Your kisses make my skin feel weak. I'm always melting in your heat. Then I saw like a bird in the wind. Oh I glide, as I'm flying through heaven……Rapture tastes so sweet."
I knew every inch of body, more so now, after I met Yuki, than ever before. Playing like my hand was his, how he loved the way my hip jutted out. How I could feel him staring at me with a frightening intensity. How he seemed to know exactly where to touch at exactly what time.
But it is entirely different when fantasy and fiction becomes reality and actuality, when you get a taste of someone burning with desire for only you. It can quickly become an addiction, a yearning, a force that's completely out of your grasp and control. An ego can become bigger than a person when you begin to dive into the depths of what fuels a person's sexual need. When you finally figure out it's the shape of your hips, the light in your eyes, the shadow your lip casts when it pouts, the smell of you skin, the sound of your voice, the curve in your waist, the color of your nipples. All these things are fuel to a fire that harbors inside of a person.
Knowing that you can cause someone to lose themselves, cause them to feel the closest thing to heaven in a world that's given them nothing but hell. Knowing that you can create an entirely different person with a few sensual movements, and cause them to loose control of themselves for only a few blissful seconds.
I had never experienced what someone else's skin felt like. I never knew that there was such a wide variety of textures. Some patches were hot and smooth, while others felt like the finest Chinese silk, every fiber tightly wound together so that it felt like liquid when it flowed across the skin of your palm. You never really notice the beauty of a human being until you are able to expose exactly who they are. You never really notice all of your body's flaws until you, in turn, are the one who is exposed. When you feel the air on your bare chest and your heart seems to be beating so quickly, trying to escape, as if the layer flesh is suffocating it. You notice the way your face burns almost with as much passion as the other persons need. You feel you skin flaring around your chest, and you're afraid your whole body will turn pink. You know that the other person can see your body's reactions; they can take in each involuntary action.
He becomes a different person. Asking me questions that make my ears burn from their acid lust. Millions of phrases circling my brain, telling myself how this is never what I wanted, but then again, when I think about it, who's phantom hand touched me in those places, what apparition told me he loved the way my body felt against his.
Unable to answer his questions, my eyes absorb my emotions; trying to speak to him with their blues and purples, trying to hold back the clear blood that swarmed behind them. The hushed sound of fabric brushing against fabric was never more apparent then in this situation.
The heat from his lips where scorching the thin layer of skin on mine, his breath on my cheek, his hand pushing on my chest silently commanding me to lay down, all seemed to be too much. The hard floor was stabbing into my back like a forgotten enemy, causing me to arch into him, causing me to mistakenly encourage his wandering hands.
The numb tug on my blue jean button causes my whole body to glow, the tiny hairs on my neck and arms to come to full attention, and my body to become rigid. My shoulders were straightening to the point of shattering, each tendon in my arm was stretching to the breaking point, and my deadened fists stood firm beside my hips.
His brazen hand slid up my unyielding arm. By that time my head was shaking weakly, trying to deny him, trying to tell him that this wasn't how it was supposed to be. Not here. Not on this floor. Not unwillingly.
I didn't know the process of this reprehensible act. I only knew the vague images that flowed through my head at my own time of need. It was all too real for me to stomach; the touch of a real hand, the heat of a real body, the moisture of real breath, the realism of someone's need.
His words were polished and slick, almost as if they were practiced. His coaxing was convincing and intoxicating. His assurance of little pain and guarantee of me being his one and only lover seemed to have taken their inebriated effect. This is what I wanted. I wanted his promises, his words, and his assurance. I didn't need his body. I didn't need the taste of his poisonous lips or the gentle shock of his hands on my skin. I didn't need the feel of his incredible, immoral hands on my naive flesh. All I needed were his words.
I felt the slight jutting feel of the teeth from my zipper being pried apart. My heart was pounding dangerously hard against my chest, slamming the blood into every vein in my body, making my skin flare, my senses heighten, and my pants become ever so slightly tighter.
It was then, at that moment, that I finally notice what was so amazing about this one man. I felt as though I was looking through the eyes of a devoted fan that had been blessed by the gods with a beauty stunning enough to catch Yuki's attention for the night; the way his bangs fall off of his forehead when he looks downward, the length of his eyelashes, and the perfect little dip that his upper lip makes when he smirks, the faultless 'v' that forms when his collarbones meet.
His shadow overwhelmed me, engulfed me, and made me feel as if I had disappeared. If only I could cling to that safety. If only the cotton in my mouth were not gluing my jaws shut. If only…
I did the only thing my brain would allow me to do; I slid my arms through his and held onto the back of his shirt. My grip, my determination, my hope that his shadow would make me evaporate was the only thing that gave me my strength at that very moment.
Fabric being parted from skin was a bitter alarm to me. My nerves, my pores, my mind, everything was screaming, everything was pleading with me to stop this, to stop this while I still can.
I took a deep, sharp breath that stung my lungs with a cutting awareness.
A hand cupping a quickly hardening flesh, a slick brush of silk skin against my neck, a humid breath warming my skin with its fervor.
A stifled gasp caught in between my lungs and throat; a maddening infatuation that was being fed. His breath was loud and ravenous. I feel the remnants of every kiss he placed on my overly sensitive skin. I could feel his hand begin to move. The electricity, the marvelous madness of it all. All of my strength was flowing out of me little by little, drop by drop. My hands dropped lifelessly onto the hardwood floor.
Is that my voice? It was so unfamiliar from the voice I heard muffled under my covers. This voice was someone completely different; this voice was shy yet determined, it flowed from what felt like my own lips out into the air and echoed off the walls. This voice felt like hot, transparent desire, running past my tongue, over my lips where it lingered for only a second. I didn't like this disgraceful sound to be heard by anyone's ears but my own. I forced the back of my hand to cover my mouth, but still the sound leaked through, pushing through the cracks in my skin, seeping out of my flesh.
I could feel it; the rising heat in my blood, the frenzied feeling of near redemption. My short fingernails where digging in the surface of the floor. The wood, unyielding, pushed my nails backwards, bending them, turning them inside out, as I was at this very moment. My mouth was opening and closing, gasping for air, the sound of my nails on the floor seemed to only encourage him more, but somewhere it the back of my mind I knew they were a plea, a plea for him to stop before I lose myself, before I become addicted to his expertise.
I body twitched inwardly and the bones in my hands stretched and contorted. The wave of euphoria, it seemed gentle at first, slow rippled movements, until a force pulls it up and it reaches to the tip top of its peak, all of the world stops for the shortest moment, until it comes down with a tremendously violent sound.
End of Chapter 1
Sorry…next in chapter two (last chapter) I can't think about sex anymore tonight XD.
