Title: Hearts at Stake
Genre: Romance
Rating: M
Pairing: Eric x Sookie
Spoilers: N/A
Summary: The world is changed because you are made of ivory and cold. The curves of your lips rewrite your history.
Word Count: 1,521
Warnings: N/A

Disclaimer: Not mine. Summary belongs to Oscar Wilde.

A/N: Eric with amnesia. Enough said.


"Eric…"

His name is breathed out with such tenderness, such ragged want, it makes his hips stutter in their motion, makes him scramble ungracefully to press his lips to the ones whispering out a litany of his name like it is a prayer. It is too much, if she keeps saying his name like it is a lifeline, a link, he won't last much longer. He quiets her with his mouth, swallows her gasp and her tongue like he is drinking water after living in a dessert. He stills abruptly above her, content for now to simply slide into her warmth, to stay there motionless as he runs hands reverently across her skin, slants his mouth across her over and over and over.

He gets the feeling, from her, from others, that this relationship is not what they had before, when he had his memories. But he cannot imagine why. The emotion he felt when he first saw her, even not knowing her name or who she was or what she was to him, was so visceral and real he had lost his footing. That face, he knew that face, somehow, she was something to him. His fingers had twitched with the desire to touch, his lips tingled with the yearning to kiss, his stomach clenched as heat pooled low in his belly, wanting, wanting, wanting…

Wanting this.

He wanted this.

That shining golden hair spread across her pillow like straw, like spun gold. He wanted to fist his hand in it, pull it until the pressure made her head dip back, revealed the long, smooth column of her throat. When she tipped her chin up, an invitation, he growled, the sound reverberating through him, making her shudder and clench around him. His rumbling growl cut off in a gasp and he pressed his face against that revealed skin, eyes pressed tightly closed, focus, focus, don't lose it, need more, want to stay like this, don't let go yet.

A soft hand brushed feather light down the breadth of his spine, then up again to sweep across his shoulders. He wanted to purr at the sensation, soothing, loving, mine. The motion continued, calming him, steadying his nerves, so he let his eyes open, surveyed the flesh before him, and let his teeth nip, his tongue lave, the taste sweat and sun and his blooming in his mouth. He felt the growl rumbling to the surface again at the flavor, at the way she sighed and let her head fall back farther, baring more of that tantalizing skin to his view. When his fangs nicked just hard enough to pierce the skin he saw stars. Blood pooled in his mouth, so hot and heady that he felt like he was drinking wine. But it was when she gasps, clenched around him, nail digging into shoulders, thighs clenched as tight as bands of iron around his hips, that he couldn't stay still any longer.

With a growl, he rears back, hiking one of those satin soft thighs higher, and undulates his hips in a motion that makes her eyes roll back, her mouth open in a perfect 'O' of pleasure. Her hands slide from his shoulders to grip his arm. On his next thrust, her hands fall to the bed, clenching white-knuckled fists in the sheets before pressing her palms flat so she can push and arch up against her, rolling her own hips in a motion that made him pant with focus, trying to keep the crest at bay a little while longer.

Her eyes flicked up to him, staring at him in a way he had become familiar with over the past few weeks – love and want and something else, something like wonder, something like what he felt when he looked at her – and he wanted to be closer. Sliding his hands under hers so he could intertwine their fingers, he pressed them down above her head, looming down over her to press fleeting kisses to her brow, her cheeks, her eyelids, her jaw, hips rocking just slightly enough to keep him focused, but lightly enough that, after several long minutes of this, she began to mewl and squirm in an effort to make him thrust harder, deeper, please, so close, so close, so close, don't stop, anything, more, please, please, please

He ignored her panting, her begging, continued rocking as rhythmically as a ship at sea, building the wave higher, higher, higher, so easily that she didn't even notice how high the peak was becoming. She writhed and twisted beneath him, but he shifted both her wrists into one hand, pressing them down, with the other hand he reached down to press into her stomach. For a moment, she expected relief, expected clever fingers to help her fall, loosed a sigh even as she let her legs fall farther open in anticipation. But no, he splayed his palm against that smooth stomach, and pressed it down, stilling her hips, and continued his rocking. When she realized, she keened in irritation, fighting the pressure of his hands, but it was no use, she was at his mercy.

So he worshipped her.

Hips rolled and rolled, teasing, soft touched against the aching core of her, so close, but not enough, oh God, please, please, oh please more, Eric, please, ah, please… Mouth trailing kisses down a bared throat, nipping and sucking marks into the pale skin, a harsh press of teeth to the place where the neck became the shoulder, almost making her spine crack as it arched bowstring tight at the abrupt pleasure.

And still, rocking, rocking, rocking. He would drag this out until the wave was so high that the crash would be a tsunami, that she would fall so far she would forget everything but him, that she would have no other anchor than him, like he had none other than her.

Please, please, please, each word a pant, each word a whisper, a plea, so close, Eric, fuck, oh, oh, please,

Eric, Eric, Eric, Eric

Nothing but his name now, nothing but him. She was losing herself in the pleasure, forgetting everything but him, forgetting that there was anything but the slow, gentle swaying of his hips, and the feather light touches of his lips. She was clenching tighter and tighter, so tight he knew she would snap. When he leaned up, to see her face, to watch her fall, her eyes, pressed closed in concentration, flicked open, met his, her pupils blown so wide her eyes were black and he almost lost his gentle motion when his own peak, so subtle he'd never noticed it, clenched in his stomach. With a cry, he finally thrust deep, once, twice, hard, three times.

Her cry was his name, guttural and rasping, as finally, finally, yes!, finally, she reached the peak and fell. Muscles clenched, spine arches, toes curled. He watched her eyes blow wide, his name breathed out so softly she was merely mouthing it over and over again, the only word she could say, the only word she could remember. He spilled himself inside her, shuddering with his climax, arms shuddering to stay aloft her, but wanting to watch, wanting to see every moment of pleasure on her face, wanting to watch this, her coming down. Her body going slack and pliant, her eyes half-lidded and coy as they stared up at him, mouth kiss swollen and red as she smiled at him.

He loved her.

He almost collapsed on top of her at the thought, managing to catch himself on his elbows at the last moment. His eyes flicked over her face, the face he knew, but didn't know, the face could love, did love. But did he love her before or only now? He could not imagine not feeling this. When she tugged one hand free of his grasp and reached up to trace one cheek, he crushed her close, rolling them until she was sprawled on top of him, nestled in between the spread of his legs, chin resting easily, naturally on his chest so she could watch him with bright, tired eyes. Without thought, a smile pulled at his mouth, his hand reaching out to card through her long, long hair, her eyes falling closed at the sensation.

Sleep, he told her, cradling her to him and she did just that. He felt slumber tugging at his own consciousness and pulled her close, content for the first time in memory. He wondered, if this relationship was as new as he imagined it was, how he had ever felt like this before, couldn't imagine that he did, couldn't imagine a feeling like this.

He could easily lose his heart to this girl, and he didn't think he'd regret it for a moment.