This is one of those "I feel like writing but I have no plot. O WELL :'D" stories. It has no real focus, and was written in ten minutes. And just to clear things up, they aren't having sex.
Enjoy the lime!
Lips, flesh, lust, and satin sheets…
He hovered above her, supporting himself with lean arms. At this close distance, she could feel the heat radiating from his pale skin and warming hers. Associating him with heat was almost impossible—he was always so cold. Reaching forward, she placed a hand on the back of his throat, running her fingers smoothly over the beginning of his spinal cord and down his back, ignoring the tiny battle scars that rested there. The contact was unbelievable. After all of these years of yearning, he was finally hers. Sighing softly, she shifted her gaze to his eyes. A smirk tugged at his lips.
His eyes. They were, ironically, her favorite part of him. Always looking, but never seeing, they were forever staring into the distance. Instead of the present, they gazed into the future. These eyes, tainted with irises the color of blood and cursed with pupils the color of death, weren't meant for seeing. And she loved them for it.
"What is it?"
His voice was soft, taunting. He knew what she was thinking, but did he understand?
"You wouldn't see."
Her voice was just as soft, but it held a note of serenity that his had lost long ago. He chuckled once, the malicious sound filling the darkness. The comment wasn't funny, but it was true. He didn't see. He never did.
"Perhaps I wouldn't. Do you?"
"Better than you do."
"Were you this sardonic when I saw you last?"
"Things have happened."
"That I can see."
The controlled touch on his back suddenly became needy, and he allowed her to drag him toward her. Their lips collided, silencing them, at least for a while. She grinned when they pulled apart, grinding her knee gently into his bare groin. Those merciless eyes glinted, but she paid them no mind. He wouldn't hurt her. Not now.
"I missed you," she said, sighing in contentment as he bowed his head to nibble on her collarbone.
She felt him smirk into her flesh.
"Good."
He lifted his chin and kissed her again, this time hard on the lips, his tongue dipping in and out of her mouth. His touch was more soothing and mesmerizing than any she'd ever felt. The world around her slowly disappeared as she was drenched in his taste, disintegrating until only the most basic things remained.
Lips, flesh, lust, and satin sheets.
And that's what happens when I don't bother to plan something out. Seriously, I need to draw up a plan for every single one of my stories, no matter how short they are. Sad, no? Remember to keep your reviews long. ;D
NOW KLIK DAT PURPLE BUTTON, BISHEZ!