He knew it was wrong, but he couldn't stop…not that he wanted to stop. Her skin was as smooth as the sapphire silk kimono delicately wrapped around her body, but his fingers could easily tell the difference as they glided down her arms, encircling her wrists—her skin was hot to the touch, blazing with passion, the silk itself a cool reminder of reality, of what was truth.
But this was real, he reminded himself, dipping his head a few inches to touch his lips to her cheek, tracing the fine bones to the bridge of her nose. Blood vessels close to the surface threatened to burst, and her lips parted to let out a soft sigh, almost forming a thought, but cut off before it could reach the night air thick with fog.
The moon was high overhead, illuminating the small grove of cherry blossom trees, casting shadows over the ground with gnarled, knobby branches, jumping and bending over puddles of pink and white petals scattered around them. They'd found solace in the remote hiding place, away from prying eyes and cautious glances. Occasionally a flash of skin or a shred of fabric would escape and catch the moonlight, quickly pulled back into the secrets of the shadows.
Their lips met as a moan escaped her lips, sliding over her tongue and onto his. His mouth fought hers, but not roughly—his tongue ran along her upper lip, pushing it away as his teeth lightly bit its counterpart. Her fingers reflexively tightened around his but he uncurled his hands, relieving her own, pressing his palms against her forearms. He slid them up her arms, relishing the feel of goosebumps prickling underneath his touch and soon his palms met silk. He gripped the soft material and carefully, lightly, moved it down her arms, the collar spreading apart with minimal resistance.
Seconds later her hands were on his back, her manicured fingernails treading water across his flowing white shirt in an effort to remove the barrier between them. He broke away and reached down to grip the material bunched around his waist, yanking it over his head, discarding it on the ground. His hands found his way back to her shoulders, running his trembling fingers across her body. He knelt down on one knee, leaning forward to press his lips against the expanse of skin just above her stomach, a drop of sweat trickling down his cheek.
Despite his heart racing with excitement, he wasn't sure if he was ready, and could tell she was unsure as well. He raised his eyes, the rest of his head following their lead, to look up at her face, flushed and mouthing some sort of words. Perhaps she was talking; all he could hear was his blood beating against his eardrums. His hands were beginning to move down from her shoulders, brushing against her collarbone.
"Please," she was saying, as the pounding subsided enough for him to make out individual words.
"Yeah?" he breathed, darting his tongue out, his taste buds alive with the passion, desire, lust radiating from her.
She started to say something else, but the words caught in her throat as she reached towards him, her hands winding throughout his fiery hair, gripping fistfuls of it, arching her back to press herself against him. He made his way towards her mouth, kissing each inch of skin as though it were more special than the last, his cheeks brushing against the periphery of her supple breasts, wanting more than anything to run his fingers along their shape, but resisting. Their lips met again, and his fingers danced along her shoulders to her neck, playing with the loose ends of her golden-blonde hair, tugging on them just firmly enough so that her mouth curved up into a smile beneath his.
"Just us?" she whispered, their bare skin pressed together. He could feel her heartbeat opposite his, two drums beating in harmony.
"Always," he managed to say before completely losing control, dropping his hands from her hair to move to her backside, his fingers meeting with willing flesh. He bent slightly and slid his hands behind her thighs, lifting her into the air with ease, shivering as her legs wrapped around his waist, the rest of her blue silk kimono falling to gather at her waist, still bound by a golden sash. No longer were the wings of the dragon spreading across her body; now it lay still, silent as the passion of the phoenix burned.