Fate, out of the deep sea's gloom,

When a man's heart's pride grows great,

And nought seems now to foredoom

Fate,

-

Fate, laden with fears in wait,

Draws close through the clouds that loom,

Till the soul see, all too late,

-

More dark than a dead world's tomb,

More high than the sheer dawn's gate,

More deep than the wide sea's womb,

Fate.

-*-

Soundless floating. My body and senses were completely dampened as I lay submerged under the surface. The claw foot bath was filled with hot, steaming, muscle-relaxing water. Even the only noise, the hum in my ears, was muffled by the immersion in my watery sanctuary; a sensory deprivation that provided me calm moments to think and reflect as the tension eased from my shoulders.

The ache inside my chest forced me to lift my head up to the surface; taking a gaping breath of the steam before bringing my head back under the water. There were different kinds of pain, that in my mind fitted into neat categories; physical pain, like the breaking of skin or the bruising of pressure; emotional pain, the ache inside your heart, the deep wrenching pull down into your pelvis, and the pain at the loss of spirit, the loss of soul, of the driving force behind my motivation. I had felt this latter pain before; an overwhelming sense of hopelessness, the feeling of the weight of everything weighing down on my shoulders. Priorities cease to exist; just existing in a numbness that protects the body and mind.

I think it was this type of pain that protected me from the others.

The physical pain was surprisingly easy to deal with; bruises healed, broken skin scarred, swelling went down. Only once, in the entire four years, did I go to a doctor; worried that when he was strangling me and shoving his hand down my throat in an attempt to silence my screams, that he'd done permanent damage to the vessels in my neck.

I just accepted the sting, the burn, the ache, the tenderness and incorporated them into my normal everyday coping strategies.

I predicted that in leaving him, my heart would ache and wrench in the emotional pain of the break up. It didn't. I kept waiting for it to hit me, for it to suddenly hit me that we were no longer together. But it didn't. The only moments of emotional pain I had were caused by fear and these feelings of puty and sorry for him. Mike's declarations of love and apologies that were never apologies made me feel as though I was empathising with his pain. That was part of the reason I stayed with him for so long; Alice said that I was too compassionate, that I tried to empathise with him too much. The stark reality was that he knew this and knew exactly how to play it. He knew that getting apologetic and remorseful made me see the hurting boy inside. In reality, he felt I deserved the violence; that I appreciated him getting my emotions under control, that I even liked it when he was violent. He was only apologetic that I was upset at him, angry at him, even that I was in pain, but the violence, no, at his heart, he was never apologetic or remorseful for that. It took me all that time to realise how skilled he was, how well refined he was in his manipulation and control. I underestimated him completely; I saw the little boy lost, when in reality he was an advanced narcissist.

I came up for air.

Sitting up and leaning back in the bathtub, I reached out, picking up my wine glass with the remaining few sips of the shiraz. Swirling it around the bulbous glass, I watched it reach up and stain the edges, streaking against the side for a few seconds before pulled back down in streaks by gravity. I lifted it to my mouth, breathing in deeply the rich oaky scent before tipping it slowly onto my tongue and feeling it flow down my throat.

With my body warm from both the alcohol and the water, the slight cooling of the bath around me as a result of the high ceilings and slate floor prompted me to stretch up and clamber carefully out, stepping out onto the cold floor. I wrapped the giant fluffy white towel around my shoulders, huddling in the tent I had created around my body for a second, before I dried off and slipped into the silk robe that Alice had 'left on the bed' for me; codewords for Alice had shopped for me and was attempting to be surreptitious. Opening the bathroom door I heard the quiet murmur of Alice and Jasper's voices from her room, and decided to head to bed, partly because I didn't want interrupt, partly because I didn't want to loose the relaxed state the water and wine had left me in.

I gently closed the heavy door to my bedroom and walked across the soft carpet to the large, welcoming bed. The delicate light of the provincial bedside lamp highlighted the shadows on the lightly painted stone work of the high walls. With the limited amount of things I had been able to grab as I left, pyjamas were easily forgotten, but Alice never being one to forget the small essentials in life, I slipped into the silk camisole and shorts she had left on my bed earlier with the robe. I had to admit, the silk felt nice against my skin; I was normally used to the rough cotton of an old t-shirt or flannelette that I normally wore. The material shifted against my skin, as I moved about turning the sheets and cover back. The sudden quiver I felt in between my legs and the hardening of my nipples as the silk slid across my skin made me pause and take a second to steady myself from my shaking legs. After my bath, the wine and the events of the day, all I could think about was falling into a deep sleep. The simple act of ending the relationship had instilled in me a freedom that I hadn't felt for four years; a freedom that I didn't realise was restricted until I found myself wearing nicer clothes, reading books or watching movies to relax, and most surprisingly, a sex drive. With all the stress of everything that was happening, I would have thought that it was the last thing on my mind, however I found myself thinking about sex. With what I had been through, I knew a relationship was nowhere in my mind, and casual sex wasn't my thing. I think it was my body's way of celebrating its liberation and relief.

I slipped into the bed, moving the pillows to the middle simply because I could. The cold, fresh sheets felt refreshing on my skin. Looking around my new room, my eyes fell on a short bookcase next to the desk not visible from the doorway. From my bed, I could see the familiar spines of some of my favourite novels and in that, Alice's endless consideration that touched me deeply. Whilst most people shied away from romances after break-ups, they had always been my solace, and from my vantage point, it appeared that here placed on the cast iron book shelf was a collection of great literary romances in history. Their settings crossed over thousands of years, cultures and languages; the golden thread running between them, the love of two people. I sighed and couldn't wait to discover new stories, and reread my favourite classics.

I leaned over and turned off the bedside lamp, feeling the fog of sleep float over me.

~*~

The tumbling of the waves of the Irish Sea against the beach stirred me to open my eyes.

Although the hollow sounds of the vast, cold, open coastline began waking me from my sleep, the crackling of a fire nearby partially explained the unexpected warmth of my body. I tentatively tilted my head towards it to see the colours flickering as the salts heated on the burning driftwood, dancing upwards to the darkness of the stone shelter we were in. My gown lay folded on the floor next to the pile of woolen blankets I was lying on and wrapped under.

My slight movements roused what I realised was the more dominant source of my heat. I pressed back into the naked intimacy of him; the front of his hard body flush against the curves and dips of my back; his arms wrapping softly but firmly around my waist and breasts, pulling me into him. I purred in contentment. I felt him smile against my skin as soft kisses started on my shoulder, lightly tracing a path up my neck. His lips paused on the edge of the skin across my throat as my head rolled back in indulgence .

His kisses traced upwards, finding the commissure of my jawbone and ear. His lips, so delicate and tender in their caresses stirred a pleasurable tingling that pulled downwards, forming a deep aching as the blood rushed to my core.

His hands began to slowly caress the soft skin of my stomach, running down the valley of my waist and over the high curve of my hip. He brushed his slightly parted satin lips over the edge of my ear, letting his hot breath whisper over its folds and creases, "Good morning," his deep, velvet voice smiled before lightly biting my ear lobe. Simpering, I murmured in agreement.

His tongue flicked out soothing where he had bitten down and then wetly caressed curving up to the apex of my ear. The feeling of his hot, wet tongue flickered imaginings in my mind, impelling me to rub my thighs together in an attempt to gain some friction. My tingling arousal found purchase, shooting sudden jolts to my burning core, spreading the wetness that had been gathering between my folds onto my thighs. In my writhing movement, I inadvertently pressed back hard against his arousal; the hardness and then the size of which elicited a moan from my throat.

Not wanting to lose his grasp around me, I started to turn my body slowly towards him. As my thigh moved downwards, I brushed firmly against his hard erection, spreading a streak of his glistening fluid across my thigh. Feeling and seeing how heavily aroused he was, so close to my centre as I turned, broke my skin out in a shiver of goosebumps, my nipples hardening even more as my continual turn brushed them against his.

Following my eyes up from where my breasts pressed against his perfectly formed chest, I ran my hands over his toned forearms, brushing further up over his biceps, shivering at what I could only articulate in my mind as god-like masculinity.

Not yet meeting his eyes, I breathed in deeply, tracing his collarbones on both sides with my fingertips before running my hands over his shoulders to embrace myself against him.

My body wanted this man more than anything else on this earth; the deep ache in my core was only matched by the ache inside my heart for him; a connection that pulled me from deep inside.

His scent completely and utterly enraptured me; the depth of the scent of his arousal and skin was like honey, thick and sweet; his breath was light and delicate, reminding me of lilacs warmed and opened by sunshine.

I brought my eyes upwards, following my fingers as they glided up his neck. Leaning in, I placed a delicate open kiss on his throat. I pulled my body up slightly, trailing kisses intermingled with slight licks of my tongue as I tasted his skin. Pushing my nose into the same patch of skin where he had teased me earlier, I breathed his scent in deeply, sending tingles through my lungs into my centre. The tingles caused me to unconsciously rub my thighs together, spreading my warm wetness, sating my ache momentarily, but building my need for him. Knowing what I was doing he growled deep within his chest, sending a sudden desire to buck my hips, craving him inside of me. His growl deepened as he pressed against me, pushing his hard, hot cock into my pelvis. Wetness seeped out of me, aching and writhing to feel him inside.

I ran my tongue across his perfectly chiseled, and scratchy jaw, making my way towards his lips; the aching in my centre doubling tenfold at the prospect of my lips moving against his. I brought my head back slightly, intent on looking into his eyes.

Moving my gaze from his slightly parted lips, I looked directly up towards his eyes. The incomprehensible power of what hit me when his eyes lifted to look into mine left me reeling. His eyes were deep emerald green pools, filled with love and understanding; he was completely open, exposed and was looking into the very core of my soul. I felt as though every emotion inside me was being pulled from the deepest parts of my soul and heart were pouring into his eyes whilst I was filled and absorbed with the very essence of him. Without breaking our gaze, he brought his mouth crashing down onto mine; the ache in my heart now blending with the unbearable aching of my now throbbing core.

He moved his mouth against mine, deepening the kiss, knowingly showing me the depth of what he too was feeling as stars began to appear behind my closed lids at the intensity.

His hand cupped my cheek as he brushed his lips over mine and leant back, his accent strong as he looked into my eyes, "I love you more than I'll ever be able to express," he breathed as he kissed me again, "but I promise I'll spend my life getting as close as possible."

My heart jumped at his words and the sound of his voice.

He gently rolled me backwards onto my back, moving his tongue to massage mine, deepening the kiss. As I ran my hands over the planes of his broad, muscled shoulders, he trailed a hand upwards ... over my hips ... my waist ... the underside of my breast… As I mimicked his motions with my hands up his body, he moaned and thrust against me, "God, my bella," the difference in his accent to mine from his home across the sea, stirred within me.

My nipples ached for his touch as I arched my back to his hand. He cupped my breast in his hand and squeezed it gently as he palmed my entire breast.
I moaned in delight at his touch, as he gently squeezed and massaged.

His hand moved across to share his attentions with my other breast, as he lowered his head and began licking and gently sucking on my nipple. As he massaged my other breast he softly pinched and rolled its nipple between his fingers. The sensations were so overwhelming, his touch so powerful, his eyes staring at me with such rapture; I started to feel my climax building between my thighs.

He lifted his mouth from my nipple, kissing it tenderly before looking directly into my eyes. I leant towards him and pulled his mouth onto mine. The feeling of his lips moving against mine was amazing - his tongue rolling into and against mine, unintentionally distracting me as his hand trailed a path to my aching core.

Running his hand up my thigh, he painstakingly slid his finger into my folds. He groaned as he felt my wetness, pressing his cock against my hip as I pushed into him. He ran a second finger parallel to the first, moving together up over my centre, then down through the sides of my slick folds.
On the next stroke up he pressed the tips of both fingers against my bundle of nerves, circling and pressing against me, "Ughhh, that feels so good," I moaned, my Irish vowels rolling off my tongue smoothly. "I need you inside of me." I begged, unable to stop my hips from writhing below him.

He clasped my face in his palm and kissed me deeply, "You are my life now," he breathed against my lips.
I raised my hand to mirror his and kissed him hard, pouring every amount of passion I felt into it. Breaking the kiss, I kept my forehead pressed against his. This bronze hair framed our reverence and I looked into his soul-enchanting eyes, "I love you."

I reached down and grasped his length in my hand. His width was daunting and as I stroked upwards and over his length I still couldn't fathom how he fitted inside of me, but ached deeper at the notion. He groaned and bucked into my hand, before positioning his fingers at my entrance. He circled my opening pressing against me until I pushed my hips against them, wanting them to move beyond teasing.

He thrust his fingers inside of me, deeply, causing me to moan out and thrust my hands down his cock with equal fervour.
He pumped his fingers in and out of me as I felt the ache at my core shift into a pressure building tighter and tighter. Our moans and gasps as we pumped and thrust against each other only pushed me closer to my edge.

He curled his fingers up suddenly, massaging the tender spot inside of me and I felt the pressure crescendo immediately. "Come, my bella. Come for me," my walls clamped down on his fingers as I tumbled over, orgasming; warmth flowing deep and hard into my body as my walls throbbed and massaged against his fingers.

As I began to calm, he slid his fingers out of me slowly and pressed his lips hard to mine. Seeing his toned and lean body transferred the remnants of my orgasm to a new craving to have him completely in me. He shifted his weight over me, using his hands to slide my knees up and apart, ready to wrap around him once he was inside.

My heart beat hard behind my breast; partly from my orgasm, partly from the rapture of seeing his body over me, so provocative my core started throbbing.

Slightly pressing the hot, wet warmth of his cock at my entrance, he looked into my eyes and brought his arms under my shoulders. Lifting me slightly upwards towards his body, he brought his towards mine, our chests touching. I leant up and kissed him deeply, trying to signal how much I wanted him. I reachied downwards and grasped his shaft, pressing his head into my wet folds.

In one deep, slow, sensual movement he pushed himself into me. We groaned in unison, the completeness of him inside me lighting new embers within my soul.
As he began to thrust, I felt his length and hardness inside of me; growing the tight, wet, hot ache of my walls around him.
He thrust deeper, and faster as I wrapped my legs around his hips, using my feet to press into me each time he was completely sheathed in my folds.
Our breathing and noises grew with each thrust, spurring us on. I felt the warmth and tension grow, the familiar pulsing of my blood against my centre, pressed every time he was entirely enclosed by me.

Our lips and tongues pushing and pressing against each other; the need and ache at its peak.

I felt him start to tense above me, and tilting his hips, he thrust his cock hard and fast upwards three times, stroking against the spot inside of me. My walls exploded, throbbing and pulsing and the heat and warmth of my orgasm clamped down on his length. With a final thrust, he came deep within me; his throbbing and pulsing matching mine.

Holding my body tight below his, he held us together as the waves of pleasure rolled over us, calming and abating gradually.
He brought his lips to mine and kissed me with such fervour I felt as though we had melted completely into each other.
Although his home was across the sea, this man was my soul and apart we couldn't function. We would find a way to be together; no matter the cost to our countries, our loyalties.

"Isolde," he breathed against my lips, "my bella. You are my blessing in this life; I vow to protect you, forever."
He kissed me deeply, before rolling us over, so that I lay on top of him, still connected. He wrapped the blankets over my body and we fell asleep to the sounds of the driftwood fire and the waves outside.

~*~

The light dappled across the high ceilings and lemon walls. I stirred within the soft mass of my bed covers and pillows, my dream hitting me with such vivid remembrance. I rarely dreamt, and then when I did I was only aware that I had from those that had heard me talking in my sleep.
Shifting into the comfort of the pillows, my thighs rubbed together; I felt wetness without the usual accompaniment of arousal and realised that I must have found my release in my sleep; the images of my dream flashing in my mind.

I rolled my body and pushed my face into my pillow, groaning in frustration, hoping that I hadn't been vocal enough for Alice or Jasper to hear.

Opening Poem
Algernon Swinburne, "Prelude - Tristan Und Isolde"

Author's Note: What did you think about Bella's dream? Have you figured out who they were? And what about this man she finds herself dreaming about?
Please let me know by leaving a small review! The more reviews, the greater the obligation to ignore writing my thesis for another day!