Title: Rough Hands

Author: Ashleyt

Rating: Mature

Summary: What if Michael had not stayed with Maria? Could they deny the love between them or will it consume them both?

A/N: This is not a happy fic.

Disclaimer: I do not own Roswell or it's characters. Wish I did!


Hers. His. Want. Need. As soft moans and hard growls filled the room, those four words were whispered, they were yelled. Demanded at times and cried at others.

Hers was whispered as feather light kisses trailed a path down his body. Hers. She kissed his neck, taking the time to suck lightly on the skin beneath her mouth. His pulse beating loudly, causing her skin to flush with the knowledge that he was as affected as she was. Hers. Her mouth continued downwards licking, sucking, branding his skin. Taking the time to trace her lips above his heart, she moved on to his nipple, laving at the tip. She felt rather than heard his intake of breath but continued until she was finished.

Hers. Loud kisses, soft kisses and then there were the wet kisses that left them both feeling dirtier than the experience usually called for. She held his penis in hand, her hand barely surrounding it and relished in the strength of this man. His heat driving her, his laboured breath filling her with the sense of power she was without in their normal lives. Lowering her head to the tip, she slowly extended her tongue and tasted him. Ignoring his strangled sound of pleasure she drew his length into her mouth. Moving up and down, up and down until his pressure began to build. Hers. She thought as he growled and pulled her up to meet his mouth. He consumed her being, ravished her core and she let him.

His turn began as soon as he could remove his mouth. Grabbing her small body and tossing her on her back, a small smirk gracing his face. His. He ate up her image; blonde hair, green eyes that were dark with desire, flushed skin, nipples tight and hard, her legs open enough for him to know she was ready to be taken. His. But first he'd have his turn.

His. Placing both hands on her legs he spread her enough to place himself in between them. She instantly melted into his flesh causing a sigh to grace her lips. Kissing her softly but still with the previous fire, he moved his mouth to her shoulder, her breasts. Lingering there to hear her moans and sighs but moving on to the prize. His. Keeping her legs spread, he placed his mouth above her core. He could feel her squirming but wanted to draw this out for as long as he could, it wasn't every day that he allowed himself a taste of heaven. And as he tasted her, he relished in the fact that she tasted similar to what he assumed heaven could only taste like. Her moans turning to gasps as he licked and sucked like a man starved. And he was starved, for her. His. Her body shook as she came, screaming his name and then lost in the tremors as she felt her release. He continued to feast, not stopping until her body went limp.

"We're not done."

Spent, she opened her eyes and raised her hand towards him. He grabbed it and pulled her up right against him. "Do you want me?"

"Yes"

"Do you want this?"

"Always"

With a growl he flipped her onto her stomach and pulled her midsection up, sliding his hard length into her at the same time.



Time stood still as her body grew accustomed to his size.

As he lost himself in her surrounding warmth.

He wanted her.

She wanted him.

He started to move, slowly at first, hoping to make it last. She met him, thrust for thrust, stifling her sounds in the pillow below her face. In. Out. In. Out. Sweat trailing down his back, his muscles straining to stay in control. In. Out. In. Out...

"Need...you"

His control broken as her want changed to a need. He flipped her over, gripped her waist roughly and plunged into her body. Screams of pleasure filled the room as she revelled in his dominance and the strength of his desire for her. She matched his rhythm thrust for thrust, her nails scrapping his back, holding on to him as tightly as she could.

He needed to claim her. Brand her in a way that made it impossible to let her go. Bond her to him so no one else could even think to attempt to be with her, by her side. This drove his relentless strides. Even out of breathe and forced to his limit he didn't stop. Couldn't stop.

She needed him. His rough hands, his dark consuming gaze, the hunger in his movements and even if it were just for this moment she would take what he gave. She'd take it all. Instead of falling away from his passion, she met it. His every action was matched and it was the reason that they fit together so well. Would always fit together so well.

Without stopping he asked, "Why?"

She couldn't answer; instead she screamed her second climax of the night, her body spasms triggering his own release. They became two hearts, two souls, beating together. So in sync with one another that they were but a reflection of that moment for each other.

He collapsed and rolled them over so she was once again on top.

Hers. His. Need. Want.

He would always be hers as she would always be his, even if it were only for these stolen moments. His destiny didn't involve her and so her life couldn't involve him. Except for these small interludes. When their wants turned into desperate needs they could only find in each other.

His question remained unanswered. The why of the situation was as easy as it was complicated. Duty and responsibility would always clash with desire and love. Choices were made that could not be undone or forgiven.

She rolled off of him and turned on her back.



"Isabel's waiting"

He stayed motionless, yearning to pull her back into his arms. So he could smell her skin, her hair, her scent. But the mood had shifted and with it went the ease he could only experience here. His guard went up as his reality came crashing back to him.

"I'm going"

He dressed quickly and quietly which was pointless as the silence in the room exaggerated his every move. He kept his glances away from her at all times, and walked towards the door.

"Michael"

He turned towards her, his love, his heart, and the very piece of his soul that was missing whenever they were apart.

"I hate you" She said without venom or heat. They were just three words to him and to her, said in the moment.

Mocking laughter escaped his lips and the soldier returned to the forefront as he opened the door to leave, "No you don't"

Stubborn green eyes narrowed, "This isn't love"

He paused and closed the door.

"I could never love you again"

He began to walk slowly towards her, anger piercing through him at her belief in her words. "I didn't have a choice"

She scoffed as she sat up and began to throw her clothes on, "We always have a choice. You chose wrong and now both of our lives are fucked up".

He paused in front of her, seeing the pain and anger and anguish in her eyes. "No one forced you to come"

"Yes, you do. You made me love you and now I can't let go" Her eyes shining with unshed tears of frustration. "Neither can you."

His arm reached out to hold her as he said, "Maria..."

"No, no!" She jumped back, shaking her head, "Do NOT say my name like that. Or look at me the way you used to. We can't go back"

"Wh-"

"It's gone; it was destroyed by you, by me, by us"



His arm fell back as they stood still, eyes locked, the truth of their situation upon them. His choice to accept his responsibility to Antar broke both of their hearts. His decision to marry Isabel destroyed their love. Her need to numb the pain with strangers enraged him and caused him to never let her go. She was his, while he would never be hers. Bonded but not married, they continued to find the relief they could only find in each other on nights when the need became too much.

Bonded mates could only go so long without needing to be with each other. The need growing stronger each day until their every thoughts are of only each other. The pain began shortly after that... This was as old as Antar itself.

He hung his head, ashamed of the truth in her words. But not sorry, never sorry that he would always have her in a way that no one else would.

"I heard the good news. Should I send her flowers?" Her tears were now falling as her face contorted with pain, "Or was my heart never enough?"

Michael closed his eyes; he could never stand her tears and wanted to comfort her through the hurt. But he couldn't. She wouldn't let him, and even if she did, he couldn't allow himself or her that. They had rules that they were already breaking with conversation and emotions. No, it would be better to be cold and unfeeling so that would be her last memory of him. He'd rather live with her anger than her pain.

"We think it might be a girl, she wants to name her Emily"

"Get. Out." She turned her back, walking towards the window.

"Same time, same place?"

"I'm sure I can call Billy. Or Nathan. Or Mike... "

She felt the energy build behind her as he struggled to regain control of his powers. Even after all these years, she was still the only person who caused him to lose control.

"Or I'll run"

"I'll find you"

"Not this time"

"I'll always find you"

"Why?"

He didn't answer; instead he left, slamming the door as the lamp beside the bed blew up. Her question unanswered as his before, but both of them knowing the why to their situation.

His. Hers. Want. Need

Love?

The End.