Derry woke with a start from a nightmare. It wasn't one of the usual ones that plagued his sleep every night, but a new terror. He had been walking over a bridge with Niamh, she was ahead of him and all he could see was the back of her head. He had tried to turn her around to face him, but when he turned her around there was no face, just the back of her head again. She kept walking away and he ran after her, calling her name. He knew something evil was coming, something he had to protect her from, but he couldn't remember what. Then she was standing on the edge of the bridge and there was no barrier, nothing to keep her from the abyss below and he ran towards her but he was too late and she slipped. As she fell, she spun and he finally saw her face staring up at him in terror.
He jolted awake, sweating and just caught himself from screaming out loud. Disorientated and shaken he sat up, heart pounding and looked down at Niamh sleeping next to him, her face peaceful. He tried to steady his breathing but the sickening feeling of dread from his dream didn't leave him. What was he doing? Why was she here with him? There is danger here, he felt sure. Danger she should be protected from.
Still unsettled and with a rising tide of panic swelling up inside him, he pushed back the covers and stood up. As the cold air hit his skin, he remembered he was naked. Fuck, how could he have done this – sleeping here unclothed next to her, all his tattoos uncovered. The horrible symbols he never wanted her to see all exposed and, he realised with a hot rush of shame, now covered in her scent, in her essence. The memory of what had passed between them just hours before came flooding back to him and the intense desire that had overcome him and led him to drop all his carefully built defences seemed shabby and shameful to him now. How could he have let her explore his body with her mouth that way, kissing his chest, her tongue caressing the place where the huge swastika defiled his skin. But remembering it also brought a surge of desire and he was dismayed to feel himself hardening again. Idiot! He pressed his hands hard against his temples trying to control his thoughts. He needed to feel clean, to feel in control again, so walked to the bathroom and turned on the cold tap. He filled his hands with the water, throwing it over his face and head, allowing the cold water to flow painfully down his body until he stood in a small puddle on the floor. The icy water brought him to his senses and he regained control over his desire. He would wait for her to wake up, and then ask her forgiveness and explain why this could never happen again. Surely she will understand, he thought, maybe she'll even be relieved. She must know he is only trying to protect her.
He went quietly back to the room and pulled on his boxers and t-shirt, immediately feeling better with his ink no longer exposed. He was shivering now, though, from the cold water so allowed himself to slide back into the bed beside her, keeping his body carefully away from touching hers. She was lying on her back, with one arm over her head and the covers dangerously close to slipping away from her bare chest. He carefully drew them up, keeping his eyes on her face. He found he couldn't look away and, drinking in her features, the horror of his dream began to recede. He felt he know every last detail of her face, but she looked so different in sleep. There was no tension in her face, the lines of her mouth and eyes were softened and almost childlike. He watched the hypnotic movements of her lips and nose as she breathed slowly in and out and soon the heaviness of sleep crept over him too and he fell into a dreamless slumber.
Hours later his consciousness slowly rose again from the depths and he became aware of light in the room and a small movement next to him. Confused for a moment, not remembering where he was, he opened his eyes to see Niamh lying on her side, facing him, her hands pressed together under her cheek. Her warm brown eyes were locked onto his and a shy smile curled around her lips.
'Good morning,' she whispered. 'I'm sorry, did I wake you? I didn't mean to, you looked so peaceful.'
Her face was inches away from his and the heat from her body and the tenderness in her gaze instantly broke his resolve from the night before. In the light of the morning sun and the brightness of her smile, the demons that had woken him the night before seemed to melt away. Unbidden, a smile reached his lips too, and she reached up to caress his cheek, leaning her face gently towards him for a kiss. He found himself returning her kiss, tenderly at first but soon becoming deeper and more passionate. Her lips were so soft and pliant and the memory of what she had done with them the night before made him groan slightly even as he kissed her. His hand came up to her face drawing her closer to him and suddenly her body was pressed fully against his, her leg looping up over his hip pulling him tight towards her.
From deep beneath the fog of desire that enveloped him, his conscience made him pull back momentarily.
'Niamh,' he started. 'Are you okay? I mean, are you okay with what happened last night?'
She looked surprised at his hesitation and replied by kissing him again, harder and with clear desire. He held her face and stopped her again, trying to control his breathing and battling with himself.
'Derry,' she asked, 'what's the matter? Have I done something wrong?'
The nervousness in her voice went through him like a knife. Why was he always making her feel this way?
'Honey no, never,' he murmured holding her face between both hands. 'I… I'm just scared you're going to regret this,' he said slowly, his eyes anxiously searching hers for the seed of distress or disappointment he felt sure must be there somewhere.
She held his gaze firmly and shook her head.
'Not at all? Are you sure?' he insisted.
'Rien de rien,' she whispered resolutely.
A smile twitched at his lips at the reference. She had a quote for everything, even at a time like this. And dammit, she must know what it did to him when she spoke French to him like that. She leaned in again, this time with a dangerous flicker replacing the soft expression that had been in her eyes moments earlier, and there was nothing reserved about her kiss now. Her tongue slid irresistibly between his lips taking him by surprise, and as he opened his mouth with a soft groan he felt his bottom lip being sucked into her mouth, her teeth raking him almost painfully.
His desire suddenly turned fierce. This wasn't the soft, obedient Niamh of last night but something more bold, and demanding. He was overcome with the need to answer her challenge and he kissed her back hard, one hand gripping the back of her head to steady her as the other already began to explore beneath the covers. He ran a hand up her ribcage, fingers splayed behind her back pulling her in closer. As his thumb reached her breast and roughly caught her nipple she gasped and her head jerked backwards. He didn't release the grip on her head, though, and his tongue and lips relentlessly probed hers, stifling her moans as his thumb continued to roll determinedly around her stiffening nipple. He felt her trying to fight him for a second, trying to retain the control she had momentarily exerted over him but it was no good. Her body betrayed her and melted in to him, her back arching as he ran his hand up and down her spine, her body twisting to allow him full access, arms stretching out in surrender above her head.
He pushed himself up on one elbow, and revelled in the sight of her naked body and how it responded to him. She still had one leg around his back trying to pull him towards her but he pulled himself away so he could see her better. Her eyes met his beseechingly, silently pleading for what she couldn't make herself say out loud. He continued to run his hands over every inch of her, watching her moan and as his rough fingers explored her breasts and stomach, and ran down over her hips and thighs. He lowered his head suddenly and sucked hard on one of her stiffened nipples and the cry that forced its way out of her throat almost made him lose control.
She was calling his name again, begging incoherently as he switched his mouth to her other nipple, her hands fluttering around his head as if not knowing whether to push his mouth harder on to her or to pull him away. His hand reached up to her face wanting to turn her to look at him, but suddenly he found his thumb sliding deep into her welcoming mouth. She sucked hard on it even as moans were bubbling up out of her throat.
Any semblance of control now deserted him completely, and he knew he had to take her. He pulled his hand away from her mouth and positioned himself completely over her, knees pushing her thighs apart.
'Is this okay?' He could barely get the words out his voice was so thick with lust.
She nodded, eyes wide and lips parted as she wordlessly reached down and started to slide his t-shirt up. His body jerked as her hands grazed his stomach, his abs tight with tension and desire. This time he didn't resist, kneeling up over her chest as he pulled the shirt over his head. Her hands were already tugging at his shorts and he kicked them quickly away and soon was lying fully naked, in between her legs, elbows either side of her head holding himself just inches above her.
Her eyes sought his, flicking nervously between his eyes and his mouth. She reached down, guiding him in, using the tip of his cock to spread the wetness from inside her over her lips, moaning as she did. Her eyes began to shut and her head tilted back.
'Look at me,' he demanded.
Her eyes widened at his command but she obeyed, her breathing ragged and her face flushed. He wanted to imprint the memory of her face in his mind as he entered her for the first time and he held her gaze as he slowly began to push inside her. Fuck, it felt so good as he pushed against her tight, warm opening. At first she was so tight he felt he wouldn't fit and he tried to hold back, not wanting to hurt her but suddenly she moved her hips up towards him and he was deep inside her. She bit her lip, letting out a sharp cry that quickly turned into a moan as her heels joined behind his hips forcing him even further inside her.
He couldn't move. The rush of intense pleasure at feeling the warm wet walls of her pussy against him was almost too much to bear. There was no way he was allowing her to make him come again as quickly as she had with her mouth last night. He stayed like that, pinning her down against the bed as he struggled to regain control. Then suddenly she began writhe beneath him and he looked down, realising with a rush of hot surprise that she was coming. She twisted and bucked underneath the weight of his body pressing down on her. No longer able to hold his gaze, her head snapped back as her body arched up towards his and her orgasm began to roll through her in waves of pleasure.
He could feel her spasm against his cock, which seemed to swell even harder in response to the wetness flooding over it. He couldn't hold back any longer and even before her orgasm had peaked, he pulled back sharply and thrust himself hard back in her, over and over again. Distantly he could hear her calling his name, repeating it until it became an incoherent sound, but nothing else existed now for him except for this feeling. He couldn't stop now if he tried and he continued to slam hard into her again and again as the pressure built inside him, taking over, making him wild with the need for release. Niamh was beyond even sounds now, her body jerking in time with his as his cock crashed into her. Silent screams stuck in her throat as she twisted her head to the side burying her teeth into his bicep, nails digging into his back. The pain seemed spur him on to an even harder and faster rhythm until finally with a triumphant roar he exploded inside her. He continued pump in and out as he came, feeling as if he would never stop, hot jets spurting into her until both she and the bed were slick with his juices.
Finally, juddering he collapsed down on top of her, heart pounding and ears ringing. He could hear her shuddering breath against his neck as the aftershocks of her own orgasm coursed their way through her aching and wet pussy.
'Oh fuck, Derry,' she stuttered, her breath still coming in ragged gasps. 'What did you do to me?'
He lifted his head from her shoulder aware of how his full weight must be weighing her down and looked at her. Even against the darkness of her skin he could see where his stubble had rubbed her face and her breasts red raw, and her lips looked bruised and crushed.
'Was I too rough?' he asked.
'No,' she said, and sighed deeply.
'Just rough enough to make me know I'm really yours,' she breathed, and closed her eyes with a satisfied smile.