He had warned her.
She lay beside him, curled away from him, and breathing softly.
He told her not to fall asleep.
His hands crumpled the sheets.
It was her own fault, he told her not to hold him responsible.
She looked so peaceful, the moonlight filtering through the curtains, her skin glowing.
How could she expect him to resist her like this?
He bit down on his lip as she sighed in her sleep, harder, until he tasted copper.
He didn't want to ruin this, he didn't want to ruin her.
But he had warned her...
His fingertips trailed softly over her exposed shoulders, her tank top strap shifting.
A taste wouldn't hurt, she didn't have to know...
He leaned down, slowly, his weight dipping the bed slightly.
His lips brushing the same path of flesh as his fingertips had.
She smelled soft, and warm, and he wanted her.
He wanted to hear her cry in ecstasy, he wanted her soft sighs against his lips.
Hunger gnawed at his belly, and eagerly he pressed not quite chaste kisses to her collar
She shifted, his breath froze, and she stilled
He needed her. All of her, now. It didn't matter that she barely knew him or of him
He needed her.
His hands trailed down her thighs, teasing the supple flesh, her cheeks flushing.
He wondered what she dreamed of as he gently pressed against her hip and rolled her towards him.
Her eyelids fluttered, and for a brief, exciting, terrifying moment, he waited for her to wake.
To scream at him, for daring to defile her in such an innocent state.
He didn't want this, he wanted this more than he'd ever wanted anything
But not like this.
Frustration rolled at the edge of his morality, begging and snarling,
Take her.
TAKE HER.
He could, she was so soft, like virgin snow, so pure and lovely.
So easily defiled.
But...
He wanted her love.
He didn't want her desire, or her lust, or her need if it didn't come with her love
He needed her love, like air to breathe, he needed her to love him.
And so his hand, gentled, its path diverging.
Her soft stomach, her hands clenching the blankets, her lips.
Smooth and cherry red, gently parted as she slept peacefully.
Unconcerned with the wolf in bed with her, about to devour her.
Non.
He would not.
He took one final liberty, a kiss, soft and tender.
Her lips as delicate as rose petals, his tongue swiped their surface to taste their sweetness.
She sighed against his lips and her eyes fluttered open.
Soft doe eyes, trusting and yes, afraid.
Her lips would turn, with piercing frown to kill.
Just kill me already.
Her hands, petite and slender reached out for his throat and he closed his eyes.
Cool skin brushed against his heated flesh and trailed the column of his neck
Like ivy to choke a stubborn weed.
Her fingers dug into his skin, leaving trails of fire and hunger in their wake.
She was tempting him still.
Didn't she know how strained he held himself
At the edge of his own reasoning
Begging to be unleashed
Her lashes dipped low and she pulled him forward
Why
Soft lips pressed to his, so much more gently than he could ever attempt
How could she keep gazing at him so lovingly
Almost as if he were not a monster
A quiet whine, low and needy echoed in his mouth
Take her
Her hands raked through his hair, tugging insistently
Deepening the kiss
Drowning him in madness.
His sanity was straining and she keened
She keened, gods, so beautifully, and he could no longer help himself.
Her body fostered no argument as he ran his hands down her length
She arched against him when his hands held roughly at her hips
He needed her
He needed her
He needed her
He needed her... love
And so he whispered the words he so desperately wanted to hear
He whispered them as he peeled away her defenses
He whispered them as he held her bare skin to his
He whispered them, hoping, praying she would stop him
She echoed them back instead
She echoed them back as she clung to him
She echoed them back as he pressed into her
She echoed them back as he drove her to madness again and again
She whispered them when she had no energy to move
She whispered them against his lips as she faded
She whispered them to him as she fell
Fell like all the other pretty flowers.
You know, I'm actually kind of sorry I wrote this. I wanted him to have a happy ending but it sort of just... ended up like this, and I couldn't stop it. He's just always given me very incubus like vibes, and its such a tragedy because he can't have a love to keep.
Maybe I'm projecting my own views onto him, but it seems he's made for roles such as this in a tragedy sad as it may seem.
I hope you liked it, or … that seems a little twisted of me to hope you'd enjoy such a thing. I hope you don't consider it a waste of time. It's not my usual style but it seemed fitting.