Nocturne

Letter "N" in the Alphabet Series. A dark one exploring a relationship in which words aren't spoken and nothing is known. A man kept on tenterhooks and a woman trying to find what she needs. I don't own them, obviously, because if I did there would be a hell of a lot more sex on the show! Please read and review!

It was the black of night when she came.

Always night. Always dark. Always that pitch shroud covering her movements. The glow of moonlight through the window, the dull yellow of a street lamp; making her alabaster skin glow. The hum of traffic faded, the stresses of the day melted away when she was there.

A soft sound of a key turning in the lock, a click as the door swung closed. The gentle creak of footsteps on floorboards, making their way to his bedroom. Her soft breath as she reached for the cold brass handle and turned it, her eyes falling on his body, relaxed into the sheets. He always pretended to be asleep, even though he woke when he heard her approach his front door.

He would track her slow progress through his room with eyes half closed. She would stop at his window, glancing out to the street below. He wished he could look at her more fully – she always seemed so far away. There were several silent moments standing there before she would move to his dresser and gently touch the photo of him and his son. Only once she had explored his room would she move to the bed.

It was always the same.

The gentle rustle of sheets as she climbed beneath them and her scent would wash over him, causing the hardness that never ceased when she was near. The blend of sandalwood and frangipani, sweet and strong, like her.

He would resist, always resist the urge to reach for her then. He knew that if he did she would be gone, startled, like a doe in the headlights. He must wait. Patience. Let her do what she needs to do.

Several tense moments, forcing himself to breathe normally, as he waited for her first touch, never knowing when, or if, it would come. The first gentle stroke of her fingers across his hip as she moved closer were the end of him and he drew a shuddering breath, eyes still shut fast. The rouse was over, if it had ever really began. She knew he was awake.

Her body pressed against his side, her warmth seeping into him, making him twitch with anticipation. He could not get enough of her heat, dreamt of it scalding him. Turning to his side he was flush against her and he could not control his hands as they tangled in her flowing auburn hair, pulling her closer. She tilted her head to him and he opened his eyes finally to find her azure ones piercing into him. Kissing her fiercely he tried to pour some of his passion, his want, his need into the kiss. Her moans, the way her body writhed against his, were enough to let him know that she liked what he was doing.

But he knew that.

Why else would she come back night after night?

Pushing the thoughts back. Pushing the questions back. Pushing the doubts back. He wanted her. This was how he was getting her. He would not question it.

Rolling her to her back he braced his weight on his hands. He could see her fully this way and took in the sight of her kiss swollen lips, her chest heaving for breath, her reddened cheeks.

God she was beautiful.

Dipping forward to kiss her once more, his hands trailed down her sides, settling at the hem of her shirt. He wasted no time in stripping her bare – both because he could not wait to have her flesh against his and because he didn't know how long he had before she would flee.

Her hands trail across his back, her nails leaving feint marks. She does not have to undress him – he sleeps, ready and waiting for her visits. She teased him, tweaking his nipples, biting at his neck, driving him wild. Her kisses are a drug and he craves them. His lips seek hers desperately there in the dark. His tongue battles with hers; taunting and inviting all at once. He cannot control the urge.

As her legs wrap around him, her hands settling on his strong shoulders, he sinks inside her molten heat and loses himself. His eyes shut, despite his best intentions to capture her gaze. His body melts into hers and he cannot help but move, cannot help but strive towards the completion he is not ready to have. With completion comes her leaving and he tries to put it off as long as he can.

He loves her then, makes love to her with all the passion and feeling he can convey, hoping that she will sense it, will accept it. His eyes meet hers in the darkness and he sees the flame burning there, her passion. He holds onto that and kisses her.

The inevitable can only be avoided for so long and too soon he is tumbled into ecstasy with her. Even as he spills himself inside her he is thinking of the next time; the next time he will hold her, the next time he will kiss her, the next time when maybe, just maybe, she will admit her feelings for him.

They pull apart and he longs to hold her against him, to fall asleep with her in his arms. Instead, she rolls to her side, facing away from him. He tries to stay awake, to fight the sleep that will allow her to escape. But he is pulled into its lulling arms.

When he wakes it is light and she is gone.

I know, I know! It was too short! But I didn't want this to turn into a great long saga. I think it's better being short because you get a nice taste of it. Of course, I also enjoy leaving you hanging mwahaha! There'll be more smut to come, I promise! Leave me a review and it might get there quicker! 3 Fic