Title: The Most Dangerous Game
Plot: Should she open her heart to him and let him in fully? This is the battle between the heart and the mind.
Rating: M. Seems to be the only thing I am good at
Spoilers: None. But it helps if you have watched the series. A tad OOC too, sorry.
Disclaimer: I don't own em' and never will.
Note: Just a quick 'note' to someone: You play your games, I play mine. Also anyone reading my chapter fics, I am sorry. I have met a huge road block where they are concerned. Hopefully I will get back to them soon, as I have started hand writing a new chapter to 'Lost Souls Forever.' That's pretty much how all my fic comes about…sitting in class, not listening.
The Night
We both went crashing into the door, the wood that had collected the rainy coolness in its form, pressing into the thing fabric of my black camisole. His lips blazed hot passion on my skin as his hands roamed my body.
It felt raw, unbridled, and so utterly wrong for me to be standing in his doorway. My heart was on fire, a fury of one thousand emotions all crashing into one another and battling ferociously for a dominant spot inside of me. At the same time, my mind yelled warnings with brute force, trying to cover the places in me that he was invading.
In this life, it was me. How long would these emotions tearing up the atmosphere last? I would have myself my entire life, unless I gave fully unto him. Another dark, cool night with me standing here, letting him take pieces of me with his lips and hands. The second night in a row, I stood in the wrong place again. Why did his voice melt my guard? Why could I bend so easily to his persuasion? And not even to his persuasion really, just his requests.
I felt resolve leave me with each garment removed, as he spun me around, my palms hitting the door as he placed his lips along the expanse of my back. His skin was hot to the touch, hands wrapping around the curves of my body to caress my flesh.
I stood before him, completely exposed and open for the taking. Vulnerability shook me, self consciousness warped me. In a moment, he made it all disappear.
His lips consoled me again, stilling everything in me. I grew bolder with each of his moves, removing the rest of his clothes to join my pile of cloth on the floor. I felt him touch me lightly, sliding along me slowly. It was tantalizing. Again, I didn't face hum as his hands felt their way around my body.
"Are you ready?" he whispered in my ear, me biting my lip to stifle a moan. God was I ever ready. My voice would not work, a nod all that I could muster. With that, we joined, my world fading away and sheer ecstasy replacing me. We moved in tandem as he left no inch of my flesh untouched my his long fingers. The only part of me functional and working seemed to be the hand in which I had a tight grip on his arm.
I felt it come over me in a wave and hit fully. I cried out as he facilitated my need for him. As the feeling subsided, he moved still, heavy breath erupting from his mouth.
"We need to move," he said between his labored breaths.
I pulled away from him and grabbed his hand, leading him into the darkness of his room. I knew it well, better than I cared to admit. I reached for his drawer and handed him the item as I backpedaled onto the bed.
My hands flew to the edge of the mattress as we connected again, this time a moan escaping me. I felt heat flood my cheeks and embarrassment grab hold of me. I shouldn't let him know how much I am enjoying this, how much I love being close to him.
"Talk to me. Be loud," he encouraged with a smile.
Another request, another compliance. I felt the tingling feeling return to me and cried out a bit.
"Let go," he urged.
"No," I panted. "I'm waiting for you."
"I'm always right behind you," he assured.
So again, I focused on the movements and sensations. It came again as pleasure twisted my face and built deep in my core. His head buried in my chest as I lost myself again. I felt his mouth open, a cry escaping now from him as well.
My heart sank as our breathing began to steady. Just as soon as it had begun, it had now ended.
Clothes were slowly replaced on our bodies as the night wore on. Outside, limbs brushed against the window from the wind and rain pattered on the shingles of the roof.
"I should go," I stammered, not able to look him in the face.
"It's late. Stay here," he offered. Powerless again.
As I settled into his bed again, I tucked myself inside of the blankets. I laid there, fighting with my mind long after his breathing had steadied. Why had I come here? I was due at the lab at eight in the morning.
Checking my phone, it glowed 4:20 with brilliant white light. Sighing heavily, I laid it on the mahogany head board.
What did all of it mean? Did some shadow form of me walk outside of myself and allow part of me to love him just then, even though I had counseled myself not to? Part of my head yelled at my heart, telling it that this was all just a game, something inexplicably wrong that I should not get involved with.
Seconds and minuets turned into those final hours. At seven, I rose and pulled my shoes on. Of course, he didn't stir as I exited his sanctuary. Pulling my keys off the dresser, I took a final, fleeting second to marvel at him, or perhaps to stare at the one thing I could never have again.
I would see him here and there, between cases and various other activities that brought us colliding together or pulled us from one another reach. But the past two nights would never again be replicated.
Bending down, I placed a light kiss on his cheek as he slept. Whatever he was dreaming, I hoped it was beautiful.
"I can't love you anymore," I said quietly to him.
It was truly wrong to hold him so close in my heart, to love him and yearn for him when he would never be mine, not in all of the ways I wanted.
As quietly as I could, I turned and left, trying to sneak out of the door unheard. Rain misted from the heavens and coated the brownish-auburn curls of my hair, unraveling the curls. I didn't try to shield myself, instead letting the cool liquid fuse with my skin and my soul.
Pausing at my car, I sat for a moment thinking. Pulling myself out of a trance, I finally turned the key in the ignition. No longer could I subject myself to this internal torture.
Glancing back, I took a final look at his vehicle in the mirror. With reluctance, despite trying desperately to push it away, I sped back to my life. I sped back to my norm and everything I knew, where only the corners of my life were slightly bent and upturned from his touch.
I clamored for some sense of belonging and identity in myself without him, of the life I had before. No one could know. No one could see my secrets. If anyone were to stop and really look at me, they could not see the spots of him in my heart.