Lost and its characters belong to JJ Abrams, Bad Robot and co. I'm just here for the fun. Written for the psych30 challenge, prompt #22, Libido.
Lost – Giving It Up
By Mystic
April 2nd 2006
When he finally puts his hands on me, they burn. They mold and squeeze and it feels like fire coursing through my body. He slips his fingers between my thighs and I moan into his neck and press my palms into his chest, holding him just enough away to feel the breeze that separates us. It's how it's always been, never complete, always struggling against one another, fighting against something I lost track of so long ago.
But his eyes roam my body, picking the best spot to kiss, to suck and bite and it makes me gasp, bucking into him, making him growl against my left breast, the vibrations making me shiver. Making me ask him to take me, to dive in and push hard and move fast. It feels animalistic, when we come together. He grunts and I shout and he grabs my legs, pulling them farther apart, making room for him.
He's harsh and it hurts, but I ask for more. I grab his earlobe between my teeth and breathe roughly and feel his body shudder against mine in response. He says my name. My name. He whispers into my hair, he pushes himself as far into me as he can get and listens to me whine in pain. It makes me cry, but I wrap my legs around him, I guide his face, part his lips and close my eyes, feeling his tongue match his strokes.
It's dizzying. The way I thought it'd be. Feeling our bodies collide over and over, melting together. It's something wild, untamed and beautiful and I hate it. He pulls my back up off the ground, plants himself down and I sit on him, moving up and down, letting his breathing guide me. I hear him give a short gasp, his body starts to shake and his hands grip my waist, holding me down when I want to get up and I feel him fill me as I lay my forehead against his.
He breathes roughly into my face, my hair twirls slightly before sticking to the sweat and he turns, moving to nuzzle against my shoulder, pecking light kisses there. He keeps me, his hands not releasing for too long to count and when he does, I look down into his eyes. They're calm, satisfied and something else mysterious as he watches me.
So I kiss him to hide the secrets. I pull his head forward and I shift my weight, untangling myself from his body and I kneel next to him, letting our lips separate and I smile, assuring him, before lying down. He wraps his arms around me and I can feel their true strength and their true delicacy in the way he holds me. It's somewhat surprising.
He falls asleep pressed against me peacefully, but I can't sleep. I listen to the sound of the ocean rolling over the sand, the distant thunder in the mountains and a fire dying out somewhere nearby. After a while, I pull away from him, feeling my body shake nervously, ashamed, and I steal back my clothes, pulling them on quietly as I watch him breathe softly. I give him what he wants and he lets me believe I love him. Lets me believe he loves me back.
Outside the sun is just starting to shine on the sky. It's cool, breezy and I can make out your form coming down the beach. You're tall, walk with your head down and your shoulders slumped in defeat. Your eyes lock with mine and I try to smile, but you turn away before I can. It hurts more than anything, watching you walk away, knowing I hurt you by being with him. But it was your choice to make. You didn't lose me, Jack, you gave me away.
Finis