Title: Between Shadow and Moonlight
RATING: M 'cuz, duh.
PAIRING: Pam/Tara
SYNOPSIS: PWP. Between shadow and moonlight, two bodies lay entwined...
DISCLAIMER: I don't own True Blood. These characters do not belong to me. Don't sue; I'm poor, blah, blah, blah.
A/N: I was cycling through my iPod last night looking for some music I haven't heard in a while to make a new playlist with. Well, Tim McGraw and Faith Hill's Let's Make Love came on and boom! Inspiration hit like a sack of bricks. Have any of you see this couple perform? Like together? Live? I have and they are electric. They not only have chemistry with each other but their vocal chemistry is off the chain. I love how they perform these slow duets looking into each other's eyes; it's so damn intimate and you can't help but feel a hush settle over the stadium as they sing to each other on stage. Ahem…yeah. Anyway, you're more than welcome to listen to the song whilst reading this but it's not necessary. Enjoy.
Moonlight filtered in through the open window, distorted shafts of eerie silver-white splintering across shadow licked walls and creeping over a shaggy burgundy rug only to elongate over naked hardwood floors.
Whorls of shadows shrank against the oncoming moonlight but where the light failed to touch, the shadows ruled, dominating the dark of the room with plumes of moving gray that twisted into themselves before splaying out across ceilings and walls like misshapen ashen stains.
Shadows ate up one half of a gigantic four poster bed, encasing it in darkness and wrapping the night around bedposts and bed sheets. Moonlight illuminated the other half, brass knobs glinting in the silvery hue, the knotted and tangled emerald sheets shimmering like an ocean's wave.
Shadow and moonlight vied for dominance over the occupants currently entangled in the middle of the sprawling bed. Shadow painted dark, ghostly gray fingers over a lithe body of smooth ivory whilst moonlight bathed a messy mop of sable hair, picking from it, riveting highlights of blue and amber.
The occupants took no notice of nature's war, to the conflict of light and dark going on in the very same room; too busy engaging in a sensual battle of their own.
Pale, alabaster fingers skimmed a smooth cheek of flawless ebony, the act reverent, worshipful. It tracked the pads of fingers down to a proud, strong jaw, traced it up to the edge of an unadorned earlobe. Crimson lips followed, eliciting a visible shiver as kiss bruised lips brushed against dark flesh slowly, torturously, languidly.
Mahogany fingers came into play, its owner no longer content to play the submissive role. It sifted through flaxen hair that splayed over emerald sheets and an upturned ebony palm like spun gold dust. Mahogany fingers suddenly clenched, fisting a handful of golden-blonde hair, drawing from its owner, a heady breathless moan that seemed to linger like a phantom in the arousal choked air.
Dark pink lips began a journey over a pale column of throat, fangs glistening against the slivers of moonlight that managed to chase away the tongues of shadows that edged under the nooks and crannies of the bodies of the entwined couple. Full lips grazed the underside of a pale jaw, teeth nipped at a magnolia-white chin before reaching up to claim equally full crimson lips that eagerly awaited its mate.
The sounds of kissing, of moist, plump flesh sliding, slipping, caressing and sucking at each other permeated the otherwise silent room. Guttural moans, sharp gasps and the odd keening sound punctuated these ardent noises as the occupants on the bed demanded of each other, a cunning sensuality that only the other could induce and match.
The bed creaked, a jarring sound that both shadow and moonlight seemed to frown upon as they writhed on their respective domains on either side of the bed. The occupants paid no attention as dark, taut arms pulled up a lithe, softer body of achingly beautiful ivory. Blushes of pink kissed this body of snow, adding to the enchantment and god-like beauty that was this magnificent, immortal creature.
Dark limbs stretched out under this ivory body whilst pale legs draped itself over impossibly toned ebony thighs. They wrapped themselves around a trim waist of painted dark chocolate, shifting closer until dark thighs parted and the sound of wet flesh sliding against wet flesh shot through the room like a gunshot.
A long drawn out moan sounded from the middle of that messy, tangled bed encased in both shadow and moonlight. From which occupant the moan came from, shadow and moonlight did not know. They simply danced around the now gently gyrating couple, moonlight picking out the white-gold strands of wavy golden-blonde hair whilst shadow curled around a panting, heaving ebony body to kiss the side of a dark cheek, shrouding half of this occupant's face with mystique and intrigue.
Pale fingers lay possession over a taut muscular coffee-dipped back, dancing over protruding shoulder blades and a rigid line of spine that quivered beneath its touch. Back muscles etched itself outwards, creating a topography that dipped and stretched and bulged against a skin of unblemished black gold. Fingers of ivory were greedy, demanding as they tracked over this fluid, temperamental landscape of impossibly smooth and soft skin, a sharp contrast to the jutting and well developed muscles that strained against the confines of dark flesh.
Harsh pants were a new development, a staccato of heavy breathing that came chained with the choked gasps of blatant arousal. The entangled couple's writhing movements quickened with each new pant, the mattress dipping and creaking whenever an act became too frenzied.
Dark fingers traveled down a quivering, heaving torso, a conundrum in itself for neither body seemed to possess a pulse. The need to breathe, to inhale and exhale was habitual, instinctive and seemingly necessary as a sharp intakes of breaths were taken by that body of snow when an ebony finger tweaked a painfully hard dark pink nipple. Mahogany fingers did not linger though it stayed on plump, pale breasts long enough to coax out from its owner, desperate whimpers and nonsensical curses. These sounds drifted into the atmosphere, intermingled and stretched across the ceiling to coagulate with the intoxicating aroma of sex, desire and lust.
Pure fingers dipped in midnight now danced across a stomach of delicately toned abdominal muscles. These muscles quivered in response to each teasing graze of a fingertip, each lingering caress. It knew these fingers, knew its touch better than it knew itself. When a slender, ebony finger dipped into a perfectly shaped belly button, the body of carved ivory shook, that intriguing, keening noise returning to envelope the stretch of the room.
Moonlight and shadow caressed this entwined, entangled couple, blending into each other whenever they met over heaving, sweating flesh of snow and midnight. Shadow and moonlight did not quite know what was causing these bodies to quake and quiver like leaves in the wind, the dark hand of questing fingers currently concealed between two fluttering walls of torso made respectively of hard and soft muscles. However, when the pale body of a beautiful ivory suddenly and involuntarily jerked, shadow retreated in shock, backing up into the furthermost bedpost not kissed by moonlight. Moonlight on the other hand seemed to freeze upon this suddenly convulsing body, a natural spotlight of silver and white that yawned through the open window, creating a glowing silhouette that shuddered and trembled like ripples in water whenever the alabaster painted body trembled.
It did not take long to unveil the reason for this abrupt behavior. A new shard of moonlight, driven to distraction by temptation and curiosity, stabbed into the room, piercing onto the bed and lapping over tangled limbs of dark and light. There, dark fingers were suddenly lit with a glow of silver-white, revealing the reason for the body of ivory's intermittent shakes.
These fingers of mahogany were wet and glistening with abundant moisture as they appeared and disappeared between snow-white thighs, creating a thrusting motion that pale hips struggled to follow and ivory fingers to clench onto broad, dark shoulders, manicured nails digging into the dark flesh.
The slap of skin against skin resonated through the room, almost reaching a fevered pitch as those fingers of ebony quickened their pace, the wrist it was attached to turning left then turning right before it surged forward once again, causing bodies of snow and pitch to smack against each other. Plump rosy pale breasts slid up against smaller but still bountiful peaks of a gorgeous coffee-brown, hard nipples nudging at each other as the couple continued to grind and gyrate against their mate.
Shadow crawled up the unclaimed side of these writhing bodies, unbridled curiosity in every elongated creep. It cloaked one half of a pale and dark face with blankets of ash-gray, bobbing and distorting every time a mouth opened to release an arduous moan or a muscle in a jaw ticked.
Moonlight was kinder, gentler, less intrusive as it soothingly stroked the other half of these heaving, sweating, entangled bodies with warm tongues of pale silver-white light. It conformed to a thrusting ebony arm, sidled perfectly into the arches and dips of a well-toned muscular bicep that flexed and hardened with each movement its rigid fingers made between pale thighs.
Desperate pleas peeled out from this gyrating couple, spilling from kiss swollen crimson lips as the actions between pale thighs reached a frenzied pitch. Starving mewls and pained whimpers followed, a train of sound that was linked together by desire and the climax the pale body could feel building in the pit of its stomach like a faraway storm. With each thrust of dark fingers currently sheathed in the warm, wet, tight channel found between snow-white thighs, the storm built, collecting from this thrusting motion, energy and lightning that would soon need an outlet of release.
Wet noises dominated the room now, squelching sounds of flesh sliding into and curling up against molten and soaked flesh that weeped moisture. It would have been obscene had it not been for the way those bodies of midnight and snow moved with such perfect, such delicate sync with the other. They were eternal, absolute, impeccable mirrors of their mate, dipping and arching, flowing and ebbing in such tandem that it hard to see where one began and the other end. This mirrored synchronicity was only shattered when the body of painted snow suddenly went ramrod stiff, pale fingers digging relentlessly, helplessly into a dark-chocolate back. A low keening sound soon followed, the noise tapering off into a half-groan, half-howl that made both moonlight and shadow shudder in response.
Rapture. Rapture fractured that body of flawless, faultless ivory, tearing it apart from the inside out until its muscles had no choice but to tremble in its wake. Pale heels dug into the mattress behind the equally quivering body of ebony and alabaster toes curled from the intensity of this natural phenomenon. Nerves sizzled and blood in veins boiled as lightning raced through the pale body, determined to rid itself and its incubator of every last ounce of energy both housed. Tremors followed this, muscles jellying as rapture ran rampant, wild, underneath the skin of painted snow.
One arm of pure mahogany wrapped itself around an ivory back, smoothing soothing fingers down quaking muscles even as its twin continued to taunt, to punish, to draw out the sensation of pleasure and release from between pale, toned, convulsing thighs.
Moonlight and shadow were paralyzed; finally twin mirror images of the other as they divided up that messy bed occupied with entwined bodies of ivory and ebony in equal halves. They watched as that body of pristine alabaster finally went slack, its head dropping into the nook of a dark neck. Messy, sweat-drenched locks of flaxen hair fell over pale shoulders and onto midnight ones, the contrast beautiful, startling. Had moonlight and shadow had the ability to weep, the floors, ceilings and walls would have been running wet with tears.
Low murmurs cut through the silence in the room, reassuring, loving, soothing murmurs that bespoke of a timeless, endless kind of love. A beam of moonlight, unable to resist, fell back between the still entangled limbs of alabaster and midnight. It watched, entranced and unabashedly transfixed as dark fingers left its moist, slick refuge, emerging glistening with wet and eliciting an exhausted jerk and groan from the slack pale body.
The sculpted body of ebony allowed itself to fall backwards onto the bed, bringing with it, the body of ivory that clung to its front like a limpet to a rock.
The bed bounced as new weight settled upon it, causing a ripple within the blankets of shadow and moonlight. Both bobbed, swelled and undulated against the movement before settled back down when the mattress settled back down.
The two opposing ends of nature observed as ebony arms twined around a pale back. One hand moved to the pale body's lower back, its settlement possessive, unapologetic. The other hand threaded dark fingers through sweet-smelling golden-blonde hair, its actions absent-minded, unconscious.
The beautiful, softer body of ivory moved slightly, molding itself to the body of midnight it had pinned to the bed. A blonde head shifted, tucking itself underneath a proud, ebony chin. One pale hand moved down, splaying snow-white fingers over the side of a dark body, directly over the jut of its ribcage. There, pale fingers danced over smooth skin, intermittently bunching as it gripped at the dark flesh beneath it with fierce, unapologetic possession.
Contentment draped itself over this now motionless couple, exhaustion clapping a heavy hand over the bedroom as dawn began its creep over the horizon.
Moonlight began its retreat, dragging its shards of silver-white back over the hardwood floors, over the shaggy burgundy rug and through the open window that was slowly closing in lieu of the descending light-tight shutters.
Shadow followed suit, as darkness began its claim over the room, sucking out shadow's need for light to thrive. Gray threads spiderwebbed into each corner of the room, disappearing underneath furniture and the bed as darkness swept over the floors, ceilings and walls.
The last thing shadow and moonlight heard before dawn snatched the moon from the sky and the dark coated the bedroom in an unrepentant sheet of black was a whispered exchange of love. Words so sincere, so heartfelt, so unashamed in their intensity that it was impossible not to trade them without a choked voice and a husky resonance.
The light-tight shutters thudded against the window sill and darkness blanketed the room, winking out every stick of furniture, every nook and cranny of every corner.
Pam and Tara simply turned into the embrace of the other's arms then simultaneously fell into the cradle of dawn's slumber.
FIN