Surrender


Disclaimer: Not mine, but I'd like to rent him for a weekend.
AN: Deliberately written so that any character can be inserted into the scene. Just, for my sanity, don't make it Hellboy. This is a present for my fellow Nuada fangirls.


His hand caught her wrist and pulled her abruptly back towards him, spinning her about so that she was pressed against his chest with her arm bent up behind herself. He held that wrist captive in a grip of steel - not painful, not yet, but the barest hint of the threat was there.

His other hand went to her throat, settling on it lightly, again with a danger more suggested than true. White fingertips caressed the smooth skin of her neck and jaw, their touch gentle despite the barely restrained need that coiled within him. She stared up at him, her breath coming in quick, shallow gasps. Her eyes were dilated with adrenalin, their liquid depths dancing on the edge of desire.

Nuada smiled, his gaze sweeping over her soft skin and hair. The hand on her throat caressed her, feeling the quickened pulse under his fingers, the voice of a heart that beat in time with his own. He held her against him, ages of controlled power and feral grace restraining her with ease, holding her in a seductive cage formed by his embrace. She tried to push him away, her free hand sliding across the silk-shrouded planes of his chest. Her body was rigid with defiance, but her lips, silken and sweet, were parted slightly with anticipation.

"Still, you fight me," he murmured with some amusement, bending his face to her neck to taste her scent. His eyes slid closed with remembered and imagined bliss as that intoxicating aroma wove itself throughout his senses. A shiver sang across her body at the gentleness in his voice. "I understand why, more than you know."

She opened her mouth to speak and his hand tightened on her throat just a little, just enough to warn her to silence. It was his turn for words; her turn to listen, for once, with every last fiber of her body and soul. His eyes of molten gold captured hers, wound through her defenses and painted glittering promises that whispered treacherous lyrics to her resolve. Her body shuddered, aching from warring demands; an instinctive need to resist and a primal longing to submit.

Nuada's face moved across hers, the touch of his hair sliding across her skin as light as spidersilk. The warmth of his breath washed over her cheek, a pale imitation of the heat from his body. His dark lips hovered over her own as he whispered, "You may fight me, if that is your wish, for the rest of your life... or mine... or until the end of days..."

The pulse quickened again under his hand and he smiled once more, his mouth now barely touching the tender flesh of her lips, brushing feathers of suggested sensation with each word.

"All I ask, all I need, is for you to surrender to me... just once."