She awakes partway through the night, sky still black, moon a memory. She is aroused at the feel of her thighs rubbing together in her gown. She pushes down the comforter and sheets and allows the satin to ride up her legs. She permits herself this small liberty, in the face of her self-discovered freedom. She is aware this fragile moment could be easily shattered by her restless mind and vindictive memories coming to collect and cage her. She proceeds cautiously.
Her nostrils flare as she inhales the clean scent of her sheets, the woodsy smell of incense from floors below comforts her, mellowing the moment. Her restless hand shoots down to the juncture of her thighs, seeking the pulse that slightly and incessantly beats. She exhales sharply as cold fingers press against the warm bud of her flesh. She strokes lightly and rhythmically, hips rising, legs spreading wider.
She doesn't enter herself, unconsciously defending her virgin title. Her body softens, heat gathers in fingertips. Reveling in the moment, cradled by her own mental-safety net, she warms to one option, and more firmly decides with each stroke to recall his memory. Her body shivers reflexively as his bubble shimmers and presents itself from the black night sky. She gazes into the small prison askance, her belly trembling with desire.
Heavy-lidded eyes pry themselves open, yanked miles by sheer force with a magnet's intensity. They awake to roam over her supple tawny skin, the blonde nest of curls invaded by swirling and stroking fingers. He blinks, momentarily scalded by her white heat. He is shocked into inaction, the scene before him, he can only watch, yet he burns for her; any amusement at the steel knight reduced to base human need is stripped away by his raw craving.
As if recognizing the cord connecting her thoughts to the intensity of his desire, her body responds, arching up to the flat plane of her palm, pressure building. Her free hand reaches up to caress a small high breast. The silk fluidly melts over her skin, exposing a dusky nipple. She moans.
His incisors elongate. He needs to fill his mouth with the ripe fruit arranged and presented so delectably before him. He can practically taste her spiced flesh. A chord of pleasure rips from his teeth, tears down the length of his torso, connects to his loins, pulling, fueling his need. His tongue instinctively emerges to lick his lips, he pictures using the organ to penetrate her body's depths, to lap at her honey as it spills onto his greedy tongue, her wet thighs, bedclothes.
She is completely exposed, vulnerable, her hand beats a rhythm matching the pulsing of the stars. A liquid fire spreads from her exposed aching flesh to pool in her belly. She pumps against herself faster, pulling thoughts of him closer, allowing herself to be saturated by this one welcome invasion.
He no longer restrains himself at the sight of the angel before him, calling out his name. He is everywhere at once. His throbbing need echoes hers, surpassing her lust. He frees his shadows to the banquet of her skin. Caressing, smoothing, pooling. He flows into her, he is water saturating her pores, come to quench the burning.
She floats, waves of sheer pleasure flow through her, they heat her entire being. Her head swims, she gasps for oxygen. Her eyes glaze over at the thought of his tongue, it bestows one teasing flick to her most sensitive place. She feels his tongue, flicking and wet, it pushes her to the brink of oblivion. Breath teases her fevered liquid bliss. His mouth, lips, enclose her clitoris, a single suck and she is lost. She drowns in him, calls out his name, body convulses, shakes, awash in feelings, thoughts, sensations.
He is carried away in the flood of her peak, led by the rhythms of her naked and beautiful hands. He is awash in her body, and climaxes as she tremblingly calls out to him, he silently spills onto her already soaked flesh.
She grows vaguely aware of the slickness between her thighs, her eyes distantly come to focus on twin stars in the velvet of night. Her body relaxes into the sheets and she pulls her gaze to the dark walls of the bedroom and her glorious afterglow. She feels a momentary shock, not glittering stars, but twin eyes gaze upon her form. She recoils covering herself. She thought she was safe! Had she misjudged horribly? Heart pounding, she blinks to realize the room's emptiness. It was only her memories to company her. She feels a momentary shame chased by regret.
He tastes her palpable embarrassment, he shares none of it. Her servant melts into the shadows of the room. He gazes at her glowing form, she has only fed his desire. None of earth's armies could keep him away from his master like this again. He had but one enemy in the battle for his Integra. The sole force barring much needed physical intimacy-the integrity of her life's convictions. Now he had witnessed it, she possessed a spine of steel, but she was not carved from stone. Her monster's lips curve into a beatific smile as he plans for nights to come.
The woman covers herself, wipes her thighs clean. She dimly admires the crystal's web on the walls, relaxing back into the slippery sheets. Her disgust is gone, she is only human after all. She vows not to fall prey to such carnal sins closer to her servant. Heaven knows had he been there!
She grimaces reflexively, soft hair fanning out on the pillows behind. As for the current situation, she'd put her reputation right tomorrow, regain precious boundaries for her organization. Her grimace falters into a smile, something is changed. Her eyes seek the safety of the night sky, they soften. She is looser, freer. She acknowledges she can make her own decisions, set her own limits, not based off of pressure, her pesky vampire, or her own guilty failures. She does not live in anyone's shadow. This young woman is now fully in control of herself, and her life, however long it may be. She thinks of her servant and smiles.
When she returns home they will talk.
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