He'd been gone for too long. Running. Alone. Trying to ignore what had happened and what awaited him when he returned.
He'd escaped. Hidden. Trained. Ignored. It had worked until two weeks ago when he woke up in a sweat with her name on his lips as he gasped for air and shook off the remnant of a bad dream.
He hadn't talked to anyone. Not his sister. Not his bodyguard. Not his...He didn't have a moniker for her, but she held a space in his world. An important one.
It took him two weeks to return. Every hour focusing his determination until all he could think of was her. Seeing her. Touching her. Knowing she was okay.
He'd traded one obsession with another.
But it had brought him back. Finally, something had broken through and made him alive again.
He sat on her balcony for hours, unnoticed. He watched, greedily. Her hair was longer. The glasses were different. She walked with a purpose now. No step was wasted. There was a precision that hadn't been there before. She had been carefree and light, now she was purposeful and weighty.
He watched as she got into bed, turned out the light and fell asleep. After another hour he entered.
He was content to sit and watch her sleep. He didn't know why he was there. Every time he started to think on it he stopped himself. He just knew he needed to come back, so he did.
He never knew what woke her. He didn't know if he made a noise, or breathed heavy, or shifted in the chair in the corner of her room, but suddenly she was sitting upright and breathing out his name.
It washed over him. The first time he'd heard it in so long he'd almost forgotten what it sounded like.
Her hair pooled around her shoulders, glowing in the faint moonlight from the open window. He expected her to interrogate him. To jump up and rush to his side, but she stayed still, clutching the duvet to her chest as she leaned back against the headboard and gave him a considering look.
He approached slowly. She watched his every movement as he crossed the foot of her bed and then sat next to her.
Her breath hitched as his thigh touched her leg through the barrier of linens, but she still didn't say a word.
Her eyes were harder. The lightness gone. Replaced with a world weariness that made his stomach turn.
Five months and she'd been broken.
Like it wasn't even attached to his body his hand reached out and brushed a fall of hair from her face, pushing it behind her ear and cupping her jaw. Her eyes widened, but still she didn't say anything.
They studied each other. Both trying to analyze and discover what had happened in the time they'd been apart, to account for the people that sat before them now.
Her fingers lifted and traced over his brow, smoothing lines he knew existed but hadn't seen yet.
When their eyes properly met it was a storm of emotion. He saw anger, and betrayal, and hope, and something else he didn't want to acknowledge.
He didn't know what she saw, but when he planted a fist on the other side of her waist and leaned in she didn't stop him.
Her breath was shallow, coming in short little puffs even though she was trying to hide it.
With care, he moved closer until her lips were a hairsbreadth from his, their exhales mingling.
She was the one who closed the gap. With a stuttered gasp she shifted forward until her mouth pressed against his.
It was the last straw for him. The last restraint he'd been holding tight to.
He surrounded her. His arms wrapped around her back, hauling her towards him until there wasn't any space between. One hand dove into her hair, the other slunk under her shirt and spread across her back, pressing her into him.
He plundered her mouth. There was no other word for it. He heard her breathy moans as he licked and sucked. Learning curves, and tastes, and preferences.
Her hands weren't idle. They found their way across his chest, skipping over scar tissue and ridges of muscle, mapping out new territory as if she was trying to commit him to memory through touch. There was an almost desperate quality to her, as if she thought this would only happen once and she should make the most of it.
When he raised her arms and rid her of her shirt she didn't blink. She surged upwards, meeting him as he attacked her neck. His lips and tongue found all the secret spots. The place below her ear that made her mewl and the hollow of her collarbone that was so tender it took no effort at all to leave a mark.
Her breasts were taut, awaiting his touch. When his hand teased the underside of the soft flesh she moaned and pushed into him.
His thumb cut over her nipple, hard and fast and her head dipped to meet his shoulder. He did it again and she rose, settling on his lap as she scratched her nails over his scalp.
He made a noise of pleasure and pushed her back until her hair was spread out on the pillow. She looked like the old Felicity right then. Sweet, and open. Before she'd been sullied by his war.
With a growl of impatience he kissed her hard, thrusting his tongue in her mouth. She met him parry for parry. Her nails dug into his shoulder and when she lifted a leg to hook over his hip he was gone.
He knew she could feel him. The blanket had been pushed aside and all that separated them were her thin sleep shorts and his pants. Her hips surged upwards, rolling into his. He shut his eyes so tight he saw stars as he fought for control.
Her nimble fingers had worked their way under his shirt. They trailed over his abs, taking their time exploring as he slowed his attack on her mouth.
Everywhere she touched felt like fire, and when she suddenly raked her nails over his nipples he couldn't restrain the roar he let out. He felt her lips turn up in a smile.
He tore his shirt over his head and pulled her to him. She gasped when they made contact, her mouth falling to his neck. She sucked, and laved, and bit, her tongue soothing when she was through.
His hand slid up her chest, thumb running under the soft skin of her breast before he took it in his palm. She moaned and arched her back when he pulled her nipple taut between his fingers.
Just this simple act had left her as putty. She was incapable of anything but feeling what he was doing to her.
She just arched under him, pressing miles of unexplored flesh into his body. The heat they generated seemed impossible, and yet, he could feel it every time he touched her.
His lips found their way down her neck and trailed across her chest until he found her breast. When he suckled one stiff nipple she surged under him. He opened his mouth to accept more flesh, the sounds she made only making him harder.
A hand skimmed across her back and beneath the waistband of her shorts, pulling them down as he did. She lifted her hips into his which made him groan as he peeled the fabric from her. Her nails raked over his back and she gave him a small smile.
He redoubled his efforts. He wanted her writhing, not grinning. A slow lick down her abdomen, and around her navel and she was limp in his hands. Her body fell backwards, her arms falling to her sides so her hands could clench handfuls of the sheets.
The skin pulled tight around her hip bone was especially sensitive. Every time he ran his tongue over the spot she jerked, her hips thrusting up into him. The gasps and moans she let out let him know she was at his mercy.
He placed hot, open mouthed kisses along the inside of her thigh and when he reached his destination her legs fell open of their own accord in open invitation.
He took a moment to look at her, face flushed, hair a mess as she twitched and convulsed at the mere thought of what he was going to do to her.
At her next sharp intake of breath he didn't wait. He dove in, lips and tongue doing their best. She let out a high pitched wail as he licked a long line through her slit, avoiding her clit. His thumbs circled in and spread her wide as he feasted. He slowly slid a finger in and she rose again. When he finally paid attention to the place she wanted he had to lay a forearm across her belly to keep her still.
Her hips jerked and twitched the more he laved. When he sucked her clit between his lips she rose onto her shoulders, back bowing, and pushed into his face. He smiled for the first time in five months and slipped another finger in.
Her hands stroked over his hair and shoulders, nails scraping and digging in response to his actions. When she grabbed a handful of his hair and pulled hard he worked his way north. Her hands flew to his waist when he was close, fingers desperately undoing the closure. He helped her push them off her hips.
Then it was his turn to moan as she flipped them. Her hair fell like a curtain around his face. He could see her wide eyes, and the way she bit her lip as she looked at him. There was no awkwardness, no shyness. She locked her eyes on his and reached down, grasping him firmly and stroking once, then twice. He couldn't keep his eyes from slamming shut. His head fell back and she took advantage of the strained cords of muscle along his neck, nipping and sucking her way up to his jaw.
She was making her way down his body when he suddenly couldn't wait any longer. He took her by the waist and lifted her. There was a hitch in her breath as she locked her gaze on him.
She didn't move as he positioned her. Ever so slowly he let her down, watching as her mouth fell open in a silent moan. His fingers tightened on her hips as he felt her hot wetness surround him.
Her hands planted on his chest as she waited. His jaw clenched until she started moving. It was an overload of sensation. More than he had experienced for so long his vision blurred for a second.
She moved slowly and deliberately, her hips rolling over his in the most perfect way. He ran a hand up her side to her face, cupping her jaw as she moved above him.
When she turned her head and kissed his palm he broke.
She was on her back so quickly she gasped in surprise. He grabbed one leg and then the other and pulled them up, draping one over his shoulder and her mouth gaped as she arched up, the angle perfect.
His thumb stroked over her clit in small circles as he pushed into her. The gasps and moans coming from her were all he needed.
He felt her tense around him, the fluttery convulsions pulling him over the edge. His hand found hers and their fingers intertwined. She shuddered hard, his name torn from her throat as she came. He ended up with his face in the hollow of her throat.
Her hands fell to his head, stroking over his hair, and trailing down his neck. He shuddered from the contact, somehow that touch being more intimate than anything they had just shared.
"Fix me, again." he mumbled against her neck, his breaths coming hard and fast.
"Don't run." she replied, as her hands continued to heal; carding through his hair, and across his face, soothing lines that appeared in his absence.
He didn't run again. And he was whole.