--Shadow--
She lives in California now, sun and sand and surf making such a strange contrast to the velvet of the night she has come to crave. Night is when he comes to her, to be with her in ways the daytime forbid them, and so it is not the sun and sand and surf she craves, but the moon, the stars, and the dark.
The shadows of the night chased away their inhibitions and reservations, leaving everything that was so wrong but felt so right, no light to shed upon their sins, leaving nothing but skin and lips and hands…and each other.
The shadows hide him as he hunkers below her window, aiding her to gracefully climb through. Not a word passes between them as she slips her hand into his, and together they take off running into the night's darkness. The wind caused by their swift movement whips passed them, fluttering her skirts, sweeping through their hair. His grip on her hand tightens as they enter the wooded sanctuary, hidden from prying eyes by the cobalt shadows cast by the trees in the glow of the moonlight.
His quiet smile intrigues her as he pulls her to him, kisses her. His lips are soft and his body firm and she wishes for nothing more than for him to never stop.
That kiss ignites something between them, just as it has countless times before, and in the cover of the dark, kisses are exchanged and hands caress and tease. Clothing is clawed at, fumbled with, and torn away, hands cold against hot skin. His are rough and calloused against everything smooth and inviting, hers soft and small against his weathered skin and muscle.
His hair is soft and thick between her fingers, black as a raven's wing, as she gasps helplessly at the cold hands wrapping around her legs, lifting her to him.
The bark of the tree they make love against is harsh against the delicate skin of her back, even as the heels of her feet dig into the small of his, legs around his waist. He brushes away long strands of hair, damp with exertion, golden as the myth and magic, presses a kiss to the nape of her neck, touches a spot that makes her gasp and tremble against him.
Soft hitching moans that cannot be suppressed, throaty grunts that emerge involuntarily from his throat. Her hands splay against his shoulders, raking down his back, linking around his neck, kneading the muscle there. His arms brace on either side of her head and the sweat drips against his brow as he moves over her.
They breathe together- in, out…out, in. He smiles at her, sweet and loving, and finds her mouth again, silencing the reverberating sounds of their pleasure as they came together into their peak.
Mother Moon benignly turned her face away from their mournful sin, and it was in the shadows- the blessed shadows- that they found the sanctuary they so desperately needed.