A/N: Inspired by the song, Howl, by Florence + The Machine. Enjoy.
Howl
Written by theleague-ofshadows
Desires claimed their downfall, especially when they are insatiable.
He watched the crimson sheets shift as her lean body slipped from under the covers. Her beautiful curves were admirable, even from the angle he was looking. She stood up and walked over to the retrieve her clothes and then she was gone without a goodbye or even a burning touch.
She exited the room like a stealthy tigress.
He rolled over onto his back and let every inch of air in his system come out in a painful exhale. She did this every morning. It was literally routine. One with unsatisfactory endings.
She never disappointed. They had created a sort of harmony in relishing each other's desires. Her chestnut waves would tickle his chest as she trailed her delicious lips down his abdomen and place her ear to his heart, calculating each beat. He would run his fingers down the sides of her waist, leaving patterns she began to notice because each night it left her with a low growl in the back of her throat.
Her nails. Those god damn weapons of desire were his favorite part. She would cling to him, body and soul with just the stabbing of cartilage. Her petite body fit perfectly in the angles of his. She was made for him. He was designed for her.
The nights never disappointed. Each evening, exactly at midnight, she would creep into his room. Her body would be stripped of its garments and she would leave nothing on but a silk nightgown. The nights would start off with the comfort of each other's embraces. They would lay in the dark, the enchanting dark and feel nothing but the flex of muscles and the rhythm of pulses.
He would trace her veins and she would tap her fingers against his biceps. The moonlight would be their sun.
The minutes would pass and soon the heat would become a burning desire. Her tapping fingers became scraping digits. Her fingernails raking down his arms creating a delicious turning in the stomach that wouldn't fade. She lifted her body and placed it gracefully over his. Her legs on his sides, her hands pressed against his chest.
He would always look up at her face and give her a moment to decide if she thought it was moral of him to let her do this. She was, after all, so much younger and her delicate body might as well be paper. He stared into her eyes, his eyes rich with intensity she found heartbreakingly virtuous.
She would lean down then and let her blossom pink lips roam his chin, neck, eyelids and brow. She would leave feather-light kisses along each inch of skin she was allowed to touch. He would place his giant hands on her sides and press his thumbs against her ribs as he tried to succumb to the pressure. She honestly had no clue the effect she had on him.
She might as well have left bruises behind because the pressure of her lips began to deepen and soon she was using the tip of her tongue to drag across his jawline. Her tongue was talented as she found his weak spot and completely murdered it.
Her teeth made their appearance as she found his ear and his grip became frighteningly forceful as he had to hold back a groan. Her mouth was a weapon. She was going to kill him.
She placed those heated lips to every inch she could find.
Then she traced her fingers up to his mask. He froze under her. This happened every night. She would trace the pipes on his face, those parts that kept him intact. She pulled back to stare at him, her blue orbs shifting from left to right, searching each eye and looking deeper into his face.
He looked oddly fearful.
She brought her face back down to delicately place her lips to the cool metal of his mask. He closed his eyes, hoping desperately that the liquid pooling in his eyes would not overflow onto his cheeks.
He could not feel her lips, he could not taste her. She would always be a stranger in that aspect. He could not feel her tender mouth against his own. It was always the metal of his mask that got to claim her lips. He envied it.
She could touch any aspect of him except his lips and he wished for nothing more than to rip off his mask and taste the nectar oozing from her like honey from a beehive.
The kiss was soft enough to be a whisper if barely that. She clasped her hands around his neck and ran them down, the tickle of her fingers like heaven.
Then she would lean back and take off her silks.
Her body was a map, each curve lead to another. Bane led his hands down her naked sides pulling her close once more and tracing his fingers down her vertebrae.
The moment then usually led to the irrevocable time where they both shared their desires, in the most beautiful way humans could practice. He marked her and she was his mate.
The nights didn't end because with usually with not more than a half hour of resting, she would slip out from under his sheets and claim her clothing, leave and return to her room.
Which left Bane, exhaling softly and cursing himself for the rest of the morning. Similar to how he was acting now. He found himself out of bed and walking to the bathroom.
He couldn't stand it anymore. Allowing the mask to control him. He did not fear the pain. However, it was his life source. No more than a half hour free of it and he would be on the floor, blue in the face and his pulse eliminated.
He felt the vile desire again.
He loved her. The truth was easy to notice. He wanted to satisfy her. She gave him everything and he wanted to repay her. Didn't he know just how hard it was?
He grasped his mask painfully and tried to pull the latches away. He felt the fire. The uncontrollable pain was evident and soon he was groaning as he tried to resist the urge to put it back together. He was inhaling acid as the metal was being pulled from his face.
Finally releasing the mask completely, he let it slip from his hands onto the counter before he looked at his face.
No face could ever have seen so much torture. The stretched skin used to heal his wounds was uneven and he looked at the scars tattooed to his cheeks and mouth.
The burn was hell with each breath he took.
He clenched his teeth and balled his fist as he brought his other hand to test his nerves. The second the microscopic hairs on his fingers touched his lips he hissed. He winced as he applied more pressure. He wanted to scream but he was as silent as the wind on a summer's day.
The pressure became too much and with a defeated growl he moved his hand away from his mouth.
Gasping for air, he grabbed with nimble fingers to find his mask. His eager fingers found his target and he pushed it up to his mouth and swore he cried out with relief as the pressure and burning eased. He latched on the last piece and soon he had found salvation.
He brought his hands up to his face and held the mask in his palms.
He cursed it.
Midnight came creeping up on him effortlessly.
The feline form of his beauty came through the door. She looked at him, lying in his bed and gave him a heartfelt smile. She crossed the room and crawled onto his bed.
She slid her body to the side he resided in and grabbed any form of skin she could find. Her heartbeat was delicious as his fingers sought her pulse. She let her head settle in the crook of his neck and allowed her breath to release, making the hairs on his forearms to stand up.
She was lost in his warmth.
After tracing his fingers down her arms she began to grow eager for his touch. She brought her body up and settled on top of him once more.
Shaking his head, he watched her eyes grow fearful with rejection. He scowled. She was ridiculous to even think that he would deny her, in any form.
No. He desired to try something.
He sat up and placed her down delicately on the crimson sheets, her hair in a beautiful mess. Her wide eyed stare stayed on him as he lifted his hands to remove the latches.
Then she yelled.
"Bane, what do you think you're doing!" She scrambled over to grasp his fingers and make him stop. She kept shaking her head.
"Talia, everything will be fine, let me try-"
"No!" She interrupted.
He stood up and she followed him.
He began to unhook more of his mask and she was screaming now.
"Stop this! Stop this now!" She tried to pull his hands away.
"Talia, let me do this." He was calm as he finished taking his mask apart. She stared at him with shock permanent on her face. She looked terrified.
Taking one last comfortable breath, the mask was gone. He kept it hovering his mouth for seconds that passed in fear that she would recoil with disgust at his deformed face.
The pain was terrible. Absolutely excruciating.
Talia inched closer to him in wonder; she wondered the reason behind his motives. Pulling the mask from his fingers, she inched it lower to reveal his face, fully and gloriously.
She had so much emotion in her eyes. They couldn't stay put, they searched every inch of him. She knew it was his life source.
His scars were terrifying. He had experienced the worst pain humanly possible. She wanted to touch him, but the fear overwhelmed her emotions.
He clenched his jaw as he looked at her. She knew now. She had seen him, the full him.
Now she was going to feel him.
He wrapped the fingers of his right hand around the back of her neck and pulled her face up to his as he allowed the burn to be embraced and tasted her lips for the first time.
She gasped from shock and he inhaled sharply due to the pain, but the bittersweet kiss he wouldn't give up for anything. Her gasp painful as she took the breath from him, when he dug his fingers into her scalp, hoping to relieve some of the pain.
"Bane, put the mask back on, you're in pain.." She tried to convince him even though her heartbeat was roaring in her ears.
He growled and pulled her closer if possible before he let his lips attach to hers once more. He'd be damned if he took this time talking. He was in agonizing pain and she wanted to try and convince him otherwise.
He let his tongue cautiously come out and find its way inside of her beautiful mouth, searching. She finally started to respond then, wrapping her arms around his waist and pulled him closer. She wanted to bruise him, her touch not enough to get close enough.
He found them at the side of the bed again and soon they were lying down, him holding his body above hers. The pain in his mouth remained, but the nectar was too sweet to resist. She tasted like cherries and promises.
She brought her tongue out to tangle with his in delicious motions and dragged her nails down his shoulder blades. He groaned, the pain shooting up his nostrils with the action. Arching her back, she left no trace of space between them
He scraped his teeth over her tongue and she let out a feminine moan that caused him to tremble. She wrapped her legs around his waist and felt his warmth radiating everywhere. She never wanted to let go.
The honey taste of her mouth was the best trophy he could ever receive and he felt absolutely in love with her as she placed her fingers up to his face and enjoyed the feel of his ruined lips against hers.
His tongue traced hers and the bond they shared was growing as they clung to each other and gasped for air. Two lovers encased in the moonlight, howling at the moon. She felt the animal inside of her wishing for permission to come out and play.
Bane felt himself going. His breathing becoming harder and the pain becoming too overwhelming. The kiss was ravenous and outstanding, but it was time it came to an end.
Talia groaned with heartbreak as he had to pull himself away from her. She had finally been given heaven, she felt cheated when it was taken away.
He wrapped his mask back around his head and felt the surge of relief as the pain resided. Talia wanted to help him fix the latches but she was too high off of the taste of his mouth still on her lips. He breathed deeply, trying to regain a cycle.
Talia opened her eyes after a long time of keeping them closed. She stared at him with every emotion she felt running through her veins. She sat up and reached for him. He came back down to her level and she reached for his skin, for his warmth. Feeling his heartbeat, nearly as fast as hers, sent jolts of electricity up her spine.
His touch was like flames, sending a blaze trailing down her skin. She didn't want to let go, she would never.
The night didn't end with the mating of two lovers. They had been given something much more satisfying.
Satiable desire.