I have actually never written anything for these two before, but after I finished the first three books, I felt the inexplicable need to actually write the scenes in which they were intimate a little more... Well..

I ached for smut with these two :D I checked some of the fics on about them here on FF, but none of them really appealed to what I wanted, so I decided to write it myself :D

So, I wrote the scene in which they are under the lust spell, only a little more graphic, a little more detailed and a whole lot smuttier :D

I hope you like, so let me know what you think!

Enjoy!

Lust & Love

He groaned out loud and leaned back against the shower wall. Tiny beads of sweat dripped from his forehead as he slowly dropped his left hand to his side. He nearly growled in frustration. He was not supposed to think of a student in this way! He wasn't supposed to touch himself while thinking of her. It was wrong in so many ways, and yet, every time he gave into the urge, it felt better than the last. He could only imagine – and he had, many times – what it would be like if he would actually touch her. But every time, he hated himself more after. Heck, she was seventeen! He wasn't supposed to think of her this way, period! It was wrong, it was unethical, and it was by far the best thing he had ever experienced.

And how could he not think of her like that? He was just a man.

And that tight little dress of hers… It was almost as if she knew what he was going to think. She was doing it to purposefully torture him. And then she just had to be holding hands with that little prick. He rolled his eyes and pushed himself from the wall, running his hand through his wet hair one last time before stepping out of the shower and shutting off the water.

His mind still on Rose in the tight black dress, he quickly dried himself, changing into his sweats, not even bothering to put on a shirt. His head was still buzzing in the aftermath of his self-induced pleasure in the shower when he fell back onto his bed, trying furiously to think anything, literally anything, but Rose, but to no avail. It seemed as though seeing her in the dress tonight had just opened the floodgates to his emotions – emotions he had been suppressing ever since he met her. And rightfully so. She was seventeen. He could not allow himself to love her. Especially not if they were going to be Lissa's Guardians together – which they probably were.

He just had to push his own feelings aside. It was what was best, for the both of them. He knew that. He understood that. But that didn't mean he didn't feel the gut-wrenching pain every time he saw her smile at another man, that he didn't feel white-hot rage boil inside of him every time one of the male students would check her out.

He shook his head, slapping himself on the cheek in yet another feeble attempt to distract himself from the turmoil of emotions inside of him. They have to come first, he repeated in his head, Lissa has to come first. She has to be my main priority. I cannot let myself get distracted.

Finally, after a very long, tense amount of time, he managed to shake the feelings a bit, and his head cleared. He sat up again, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed, buried his face in his hands and let out a deep, disgruntled sigh. This was the way it had to be. And he had to accept that.

He would always love Rose. He'd just have to do it from a distance.

Suddenly, a loud bang snapped him from his thoughts, and he nearly jumped up from his bed, expecting an attack of some sort, before he realized someone was pounding on his door impatiently. He shook his head and ran a hand through his hair, muttering, 'You work too much, Belikov,' as he made his way to the door.

The moment he swung the door open, revealing the obviously anxious knocker, he wished he hadn't been in his room. He wished he hadn't opened the door. For God's sake, for a moment, he even wished he wouldn't even know her.

Because there was no way he'd be able to shake her from his thoughts a second time tonight, and he sure as hell wasn't going to be able to do it if she was still wearing that stupid, horrid, awfully sexy dress. He realized he was gawking, and quickly closed his mouth, trying to regain some composure.

'Rose?' he asked, confused beyond anything else. What the hell would she be doing here? A little voice in his head screamed all sorts of naughty things at him – things he knew he was not supposed to think about now, with her standing before him, looking positively… He studied her expression.

She looked scared. Frantic.

She bit her lip. 'Let me in,' she demanded, 'It's Lissa.' Without even thinking about it, he stepped aside, allowing her into the small room. She walked in quickly, and he closed the door behind her, still not sure what was going on. He turned around to find her standing in the middle of the room, looking kind of lost.

Until her eyes found his again. He nearly shivered under the intensity of her gaze as it travelled down to his bare chest, as she was licking her lips subconsciously. Her eyes darkened considerably, and he had an increasingly difficult time reminding himself that there was actually something wrong, that he really shouldn't want to throw her against any surface in the room and kiss her senseless.

So, trying to ignore the look in her eyes, he asked, 'What's wrong?' He knew she would realize Lissa was the reason why she came here. It had to be. He briefly wondered what would be so urgent – he hoped she wasn't cutting herself again. If she was, Rose would have to tell him what was going on with the both of them. The secret they'd been keeping from him and everyone else.

She opened her mouth as though to answer him, but no words came out, and instead, she leaned closer, her eyes now so dark, they were almost black with lust. Dimitri swallowed convulsively, trying his hardest not to succumb to his own lust. Suddenly, she leaned in completely, closing the distance between them so fast, he hardly had the chance to dodge her advances.

Well, it was easy to dodge the advances – it just hurt like hell to do so. 'Rose!' He exclaimed, still baffled by her sudden presence in his room – in that damn dress – and her boldness, 'What are you doing?'

She bit her lip and replied – her voice husky and tainted with sheer desire - , 'What do you think I'm doing?' She attempted to kiss him again.

He desperately tried to find a reasonable explanation for the situation he suddenly found himself in, while still trying to dodge Rose's attempts to capture his lips. 'Are you drunk?' He questioned, holding up his hand in warning.

She actually giggled a little and replied, 'Don't I wish.' She took a step closer again, attempting to move around his outstretched arm, still desperate to get as closer to him as she possibly could. He had to remind himself time and again why he had to keep her at bay, because there was a part of him – an unfortunate dominant part – that was just screaming at him to stop being stupid and kiss her already. Clearly she wanted him to. He wanted to. What the hell was the problem here?

Seventeen, he reminded himself. She was seventeen, his student and future co-Guardian. Right.

He took a step back again, carefully trying to maintain the oh-so-necessary distance between the both of them. She stopped suddenly and looked up at him with those large, beautiful eyes, hurt displayed on her hauntingly perfect features. 'I thought you wanted–' she hesitated, 'You don't think I'm pretty?'

He stopped and stared at the girl that had haunted his dreams, fantasies and thoughts ever since they met. Of course he thought she was pretty. Hell, she was fucking perfect! She was beautiful, sexy, enthralling and he had to use every bit of self-control not to jump her right there and then.
And that stupid dress wasn't really helping anything.

Not. One. Bit.

He summoned all self-restraint he possessed and managed to choke, 'Rose, I don't know what's going on, but I need you to just go back to your room.' She pouted, and he wanted nothing more than just close the distance between them and nibble on those perfect rose lips, but he knew he couldn't. He just couldn't. She moved forward again, and this time grabbed hold of her wrist to stop her in her tracks.

An electric current seemed to surge through his body as their skin touched, and annihilated every rational thought in his mind. The only thing he wanted – craved even – was her touch. He needed to be as close to her as possible.
The voice that had been screaming at him ever since she came in, kept egging him to move on already; just a little bit closer, just a little bit…

He was in no position to argue with the insistent voice anymore – he had wanted this for so long; there was simply no way to recline now. He needed her. He ached for her.
Slowly, he let his hands slide up her arms, eager to touch every inch of her silky skin, his eyes boring into hers, the heat between them reaching such heights, he wouldn't have been surprised if the room caught on fire around them.

His hand reached her soft, silky, beautiful hair, and he could not resist waving his fingers in the dark locks, pulling her in, every single one of his fantasies over the last couple of months seemingly coming true in that one, defining moment. Slowly, his eyes never leaving hers, he leaned down, one hand cupping her cheek, his lips agonizingly close to hers, but not yet touching. He could feel their breaths mingling and shivered in anticipation – this was going to be even more mind-blowing than he had ever imagined.

Still half-expecting her to push him back, realizing what they were doing, he brushed his lips past hers, nearly jumping at the intensity of the brief and fleeting contact. He leaned back a bit, his breathing already heavier, studying her face for any signs of regret, even though he knew, deep down, that he would find none.

She bit her lip and swallowed, before whispering, 'Do you think I'm pretty?' He nearly growled at the understatement. 'I think,' he replied, pulling her closer again, their eye contact so intense he thought he might turn into a puddle of goo right there and then, 'you are beautiful.'

She smiled a little, and something glimmered in her eyes. 'Beautiful? Really?' He felt a smile spread across his own lips and whispered, 'You are so beautiful, it hurts me sometimes.' Her smile could've lit up the darkest night, and completely shattered every ounce of self-control he had left. He leaned in and captured her lips with his.

It was like nothing he had ever experienced before. Every single nerve in his body seemed to be on high alert, and he was all-too-aware of Rose's sinfully delicious body pressed against his. His skin burned where it touched hers, and he was immensely pleased as she responded to his kiss with equal burning passion. He had never been kissed like this before – scratch that, he had never before felt something that could even compare to this.

She wrapped her arms around his neck as he slipped his tongue into her mouth, tangling with hers, both wrestling for dominance. Her fingers twisted in his hair, pulling him impossibly closer, his hands leisurely wandering over her body. He traced circles on the small of her back with one hand, the other tangled in the silky dark tresses of her hair. Every time he moved his tongue against hers, she let out a soft mewl of contentment that sent hot surges of lust straight to his groin.

His heartbeat was so high, he was pretty sure he might suffer from heart failure if she'd stop kissing him anytime soon. And he meant that. He never wanted to stop kissing her – he wanted to kiss every inch over her perfect body, worship her until she wouldn't be able to walk anymore, make her scream his name over and over again.

When he tilted his head slightly to the right, changing the angle to their kiss, she positively purred, and his resolve to take this slow was thrown out of the window. He needed her completely, and he needed her now. He let his hands slide down, lingering at the soft swell of her breasts to cup them slightly – she moaned against his lips in response – before sliding down to the hem of her dress, pushing it up slowly, exposing inch by inch of creamy skin.

Finally, after an agonizingly long period, he managed to get the damn dress off, and tossed it onto the floor, reconnecting his lips with hers as soon as he could again. She broke the kiss slowly for breathing necessities, panting heavily against his lips. He leaned his forehead against hers and tried to slow his breathing too.

'You…' She breathed, 'You got rid of that dress fast..' He smirked softly as she continued; 'I thought you said you liked it.' He ran his fingers up and down her sides, satisfied with the goose bumps that formed on her skin in response to his touch, and replied, 'I do like it…' He leaned closer again, his lips inches from hers, her warm skin pressed against his, 'I love it… Even more when it's on my floor.' She let a shaky laugh fall from her lips before he abruptly cut her off with his lips again, his hands diving into her hair again, pulling her body closer to his as they stumbled back in the general direction of his bed.

They broke apart for a short moment to breathe, and Dimitri felt the back of his legs bump against the edge of his bed. Slowly, his hands resting on Rose's hips, he sat back on the bed, pulling her into his lap instantly, missing the connection between their bodies immediately. She grinned cheekily at him and tilted her head down so their lips could once again meet in an equally teasing yet passionate kiss. Her tongue pressed softly against the seam of his lips, suddenly dominating the kiss. He would never admit it out loud, but a dominant Rose was an even bigger turn on than her sweet, innocent side.

So, resigning to her dominance, he wound his fingers in her hair and opened his mouth slightly, letting her tongue slip in and ravage his mouth. He shivered as her fingers grazed over his neck, tracing the six tiny tattoos there. Arousal slammed through his body, and his heart was pounding so loudly, he was surprised she couldn't hear it.

She broke the kiss rather abruptly, moaning when he traced his lips down the column of her troath, sucking and biting down in the right places. 'Did you really kill six Strigoi?' She nearly growled as he sucked on a particularly sensitive piece of skin. He prayed she wouldn't take immediate notice of his body's reaction to her sexy as hell little growl.

'Yeah,' he breathed against her neck, grazing his teeth on her skin. She moaned again, tugging at his hair softly, bringing his lips up to meet hers again. 'Wow,' she breathed against his lips, and it took him a split-second to remember what she was talking about. 'Don't worry about it,' he muttered between kisses, letting her push him down onto the bed, her hands roaming his naked chest, 'You'll have more than me someday.'

Her hands stopped at the hem of his pants, suddenly hesitating. He shoved thoughts of her sliding his pants down and just taking him – he was so turned on, he was beyond caring how – aside and broke the kiss, sensing her hesitation immediately. For the first time, he wondered if she was perhaps more innocent than he had initially thought. What if she was still a virgin?

She looked down on him, her eyes large and darkened with lust, biting her lip ever so sexily as she whispered, 'Do you feel guilty about it?'

He needed a moment to asses her question. What exactly was he supposed to feel guilty about? 'Hmm?' He replied, frowning slightly. 'Killing them,' she replied softly, 'You said in the van that it was the right thing to do, but it still bothers you. It's why you go to church, isn't it? I see you there, but you aren't really into the services.'

He felt a smile tugging at his lips and he traced her cheek with his finger sweetly. She leaned into his touch, making the smile break through on his lips. She could see through every carefully built wall he built around himself to protect himself from heartbreak – it made him feel vulnerable and strong at the same time. 'How do you know these things?' He questioned softly, studying the beautiful girl currently straddling him.

'I don't feel guilty, exactly…' He muttered thoughtfully, '… Just sad sometimes. All of them used to be human or dhampir or Moroi. It's a waste, that's all. But, as I said before, it's something I have to do. Something we all have to do. Sometimes it bothers me, and the chapel is a good place to think about those kinds of things. Sometimes I find peace there, but not often.' He met her gaze dead-on and smiled at the affection he saw in her eyes – he knew she'd see it mirrored in his. 'I find more peace with you,' he concluded, leaning up to kiss her again, and flipping them so she was beneath him at the same time.

He crashed his lips on hers again, letting his hands explore her body as she took the same liberties with his body. When he felt her nails digging into the skin of his chest, it shot a bolt of boiling, searing lust straight to his groin, reminding him just how much he wanted her. How badly he wanted to be one with her. How he never wanted to let her go. He didn't just want to have sex with her - he wanted to worship every inch of her perfect, extremely sexy body.

He broke the kiss again, only to kiss his way down her neck, licking at her pulse point as he let his fingers trace the lace of her panties, stroking her softly through the flimsy material. She moaned his name loudly, twisting her fingers in his hair, silently begging for more.
The thought alone made him even harder than he already was, but he complied nonetheless as she bucked her hips against his hands, slipping his fingers inside of her panties, gently touching her folds.

He growled against her sensitive skin when he felt just how wet she was. He cursed softly in Russian, muttering her name over and over again, as if it were his own personal prayer. 'Please,' Rose pleaded, 'Dimitri, please…' She wasn't even sure what she was asking for. She just knew that she wanted him to do it.

He breathed out shakily, but knew what she wanted – what she needed. He slipped one long finger into her tight channel and nearly came on the spot when he felt how tight she was. Once again, he wondered if she was, in fact, a virgin. Regardless, he moved his finger inside of her and pressed his thumb against her clit softly, drawing soft circles, massaging her gently as she continued moan his name, over and over again.

In response he could only repeat her name – as if he was stuck on repeat. He could no longer remember any other words than her name. No words that actually mattered anyway.

She tugged at his hair in aggravation – he was moving too slow to make her come, and he loved every minute of driving her crazy with desire for him. He grinned against her throat, pressing down a fleeting kiss before slipping another finger inside of her and increasing his speed ever so slightly. The sounds that escaped her lips as he fingered her made him so hard and so hot, he was actually afraid of bursting into flames at any moment.

'Oh God, Dimitri,' she moaned loudly when he added a third finger and sped up, pressing down on her clit a little harder. He leaned up and pressed his lips onto hers, feeling her release lingering just out of reach. He thrust his tongue into her mouth, tangling it with hers, increasing his thrusting fingers. Her juices were now dripping onto his entire hand, making it all the easier for him to slip in and out of her tight hole.

He pressed down on her clit and she exploded beneath him, riding his fingers as hard as she could, moaning into his mouth, digging her fingernails into his back. He helped her ride out her orgasm and smiled into the kiss as she relaxed beneath him. 'Wow,' she breathed when he leaned back to breathe, 'That was just …' He grinned. 'Yeah.. It was,' he whispered in reply, pressing his lips to hers in a sweet, soft kiss, his body still aching for her.

As she reached for the hem of his pants, he reached for the clasp of her necklace. He caught her questioning gaze, and he whispered, 'Wouldn't want it to get damaged, would we?'
She shook her head with a slightly dazed smile on her lips, and he felt a sudden burst of male pride at her sated expression.

He succeeded in getting the precious necklace off and placed it on the bedside table. As soon as the chain slipped from his fingers though, and his lips reconnected with Rose's, it was as though someone poured a bucket of ice water over his head.

His thoughts were sluggish, and for a moment, he wasn't entirely sure what he had just done. What they had been about to do. 'What…' He blinked confusedly, 'What happened?'

She frowned, a crease forming between her eyebrows. 'I …' she hesitated, 'I don't know.' She looked as though she was trying her hardest to remember something, but it was just out of her reach.
At that point, all rational thought slammed back into place and he cringed, embarrassed for giving into his most primal urges. Embarrassed for putting Rose into this situation. He desperately tried to figure out what had just happened – what had made his resolve break and his determination not to use Rose like this disappear.

On their own accord, his eyes found the necklace again.

No, he told himself, impossible. It couldn't be.

He reached for the necklace, and the second his skin made contact with the cold iron, the sense of urgency snapped back into place, his imminent need to be with her, to take her, to make her his in every sense of the word overwhelming. He leaned back down to kiss her again, wishing for the taste of her lips on his. He was too far gone to stop. He didn't want to stop.

'Dimitri,' she whispered when their lips were only a hair's breadth apart, 'Dimitri… I have to tell you something.. Lissa, something about Lissa… I just can't remember…' She squeezed her eyes shut and he felt rationality tugging somewhere in the darkest corners of his mind. 'I feel so strange,' she breathed, and he rested his forehead against hers.

His hand was still on her hip, absently tracing circles on her skin. 'I know,' he said softly, 'There's something.. Something there.' He pulled back slightly, remembering his earlier, seemingly insane theory. 'The necklace..' He glanced at his hand and the necklace, 'Is this the one Prince Victor gave you?'

She nodded numbly, and he fought to be able to form coherent thoughts.

Necklace. Rose. Wanting her. No restraints. Prince Victor.

Somehow, it all had to add up, it had to make sense, but the explanation seemed to be just out of his reach, and no matter how hard he tried, he could not link it all together.

He had to get rid of the necklace. Maybe if he did that, his head would clear. He tore his hand from her hip, his body actually aching as he managed to untangle their limbs, pushing away from the very undressed goddess in his bed.

'Wait, no, Dimitri,' she exclaimed as he jumped from the bed and headed for the tiny window, 'Where are you going? Get back in here!' There was nothing he would rather have done than to rejoin her in his bed, but he knew he couldn't, no matter how badly he wanted to. He tried to avoid the worry and hurt expression on her face, because he was sure his self-restraint would shatter if he would meet her eyes.

He managed to pry the window open with one hand, met her eyes one last time and watched understanding bloom in her beautiful eyes. 'Dimitri, what are you –' She jumped up as he tossed the necklace from the window, 'No! Do you know how much that must have –'

And then the world snapped back into place. He felt as though he had been hit in the face, reality slamming back into his mind. Rose carried an expression that was no doubt similar to his own.

Lissa. There was something wrong with Lissa.

Rose seemed to remember at the same time. Her eyes met his, wide in horror. 'Dimitri…' She gasped. 'Lissa!'

Read & Review!

X Annaelle