(A/N: Big thanks to Kes Cross for helping me with the 'English' structural/geographical details within this chapter. Big up, dude!)
(A/N: This chapter is rated for sexual content. Read on at your own risk…AJ)
(Disclaimer: Don't own anything Supernatural related; the following story and the characters of Riley and Dee belong to me)
Requiem.
Chapter Seven.
South-West England.
30 years ago…
Hard, fat rain lashed against the mullion-glass window; it sluiced down the panes and seeped between the old wood that separated each piece of hand-blown glass. The spindly branches of the large Rowan tree scratched across the same window, sounding like bony fingers scraping desperately at the glass for entry. The howling winds that whipped around the 14th century cottage were like those of a vengeful banshee screaming her omen through the Moors.
It was a raging tempest that thundered its fury; a natural barrier to prying eyes ...and it was the perfect backdrop to what was happening within the cottage but it was also in stark contrast to it.
Fire crackled in the stone hearth, the flames licking at the lintel; red, orange, yellow…and the blue you only ever saw in the hottest part of the flame, the heart of the flame. And it was the heart they were manipulating now.
She lay on a soft bed of straw; the flaxen hay was peppered with cardamom leaves and valerian root and she could smell the mullein wafting through the room and sneaking through the small cracks in the Cobb walls. Her scantily-clad body shone in the flickering light of the fire, the Calamus oil creating a heat that burned seductively into her skin. She turned her head to the blaze; her glazed eyes watching each flame circle upwards, twisting slowly around each other in an erotic fiery dance.
A lazy smile spread across her lips; fire. It all came back to fire. It was everywhere you looked and everywhere you didn't. It symbolised so many things…death, destruction, suffering…Hell. It had all been explained to her. She understood. Her smile widened as her hands travelled over herself as the next realisation swept over her. And didn't fire also symbolise passion? Oh yes, passion. The word tumbled from almost numb lips; a whisper that was carried upwards, her eyes following the spinning path of the word.
She watched as the word took literal form, the letters filtering through the smoke and drifting towards the wooden beams that lined the ceiling. The word skimmed over her lips again and again; the tantric lull of that one mystical word now taking control of her.
Her head lolled to the side as she heard the soft voice at her hip take up the mantra. Dark red hair flowing over ivory shoulders; sea green eyes, the pupils blown; full lips moving seductively as they mirrored the movements hers made.
The lilting rhythm of their voices grew in tempo; the words now a swirling, spellbinding vortex around the room. Her eyes flicked to the sound of a struck match and her heart began to race; adrenalin screaming through her body; heightening all her senses. She could see the smoke snaking through the conjured words; feel the heat of the fire that burned within her; the exotic mixture of herbs and incense, a bewitching bouquet she breathed deep into her lungs. The hypnotic hum of the requiem stole all other sounds from her; the flash of blue flames on her periphery letting her know there was no going back now.
She arched her back, the diaphanous red robe falling away from her quivering limbs. Her left arm was lifted; the slice of the dagger to her forearm bringing shudders of pain and pleasure to her; her words spewing forth with the other as the blood snaked down her skin, a tender teasing of crimson fingers.
She turned her eyes to the blood-letting; watching, mesmerised, as the ruby droplets hung precariously from her wrist before falling haltingly through the haze, splattering the face on the photo. She kept up her mantra as her mentor began to recite the Latin they needed, the husky undertones of her voice like a bewitching lullaby.
Sweat ran in rivulets down her body, the sheer robe now glued to her, accentuating every rise and valley. Her skin was afire, a deep tingling running through her as the rhythmic cadence rose…
'Dies iræ, dies illa,
Solvet sæclum in favilla.
Teste David cum Sibylla!"
She arched her back as the words fluttered over her, caressing her; a deep, burning desire rushing through her as the face of the one who'd been chosen, hovered over her. His deep green eyes locked with hers and she shook with orgiastic pleasure as the connection was made…she could see nothing but those green eyes staring into hers, the smell of cinnamon lingering over them…and her mantra faltered slightly, a sense of doubt niggling at her as she looked into his face; but the digging of fingernails into her flesh, refocussed her attention.
'Per is vir, pario a parvulus,
Vitualamen mos suscitatio vos!
Insons insontis donatus pro reverto nostri era
Pario a parvulus!
Pario a parvulus!
PARIO A PARVULUS!'
Her mentor lifted the photo and brought it to the small blaze burning in the ceremonial bowl; the flames devouring the picture as the smoke billowed upwards, filling the room and seeking all those within. It tumbled outwards, laying claim to every beating heart, taking hold of every conscious thought and marking those who bore witness to the ritual.
The mantra and the Latin reached a crescendo, coursing through them before it slowly began to abate, 'til only one phrase circled the room; an almost silent whisper, a beckoning that was winding down as it was sent out.
'Pario a parvulus…pario a parvulus…pario a parvulus…"
A whisper that was now echoed by the woman on the floor…
'Bring forth the child…bring forth the child…bring forth the child…"
The smoke folded back in on itself and drifted languidly towards the floor, seeking out the heat of its creator. It slithered across the boards and into the hearth, snaking up the chimney and out into the growling tempest raging outside.
The two women were breathing heavily through satisfied smiles. Their eyes locked and their smiles grew wider as the first step in their ritual had been taken. It had been a long road to this point; a journey one had been taking since birth; the other, more of a hitchhiker on a broken boulevard, searching for a ride to a place she could call home.
They turned quickly to a small whimper coming from the corner; the smiles dying on their lips as they saw the huddled form of the child in the corner. Her dark red hair was plastered to her ashen face, her sea green eyes wide with terror, and blood dribbled down her chin from where she'd bitten her lip in fear. She was rocking back and forth as she clutched a worn, much-loved teddy bear to her tiny chest; the rolling from her in tumultous waves.
The child stared, whimpering as she pushed herself back further into the corner, trying to escape what she'd just seen. The women rose and made their tentative way over to her, her terrified eyes moving frantically between those of the visitor and her mother; fear and familiarity fighting for dominance in her young mind. She didn't understand what she'd just seen, what had just happened; but it had brought a terrifying dread to her.
She should never have left her bed! She should have listened to her mummy! But she'd been woken from her sleep by someone calling to her, and she'd gone in search of the beckoning voice; a smile forming on her lips as she thought this was a game her mummy wanted to play. But when she'd stepped into the room, she'd frozen, wrapping her arms tightly around her bear, 'George', as she watched smoke and words spinning madly around the room. She didn't want to play this game. She wanted to run. She wanted to get away, but she knew that if she did, the words would find her…and that would be bad. She was little, she didn't know much...but she knew that.
But they'd found her anyway; the words whipping around her and forcing her into the corner; the smoke they were carried on enveloping her in a hazy embrace. She'd squeezed her eyes and lips shut but it had been no use; the smoke had forced itself in; pushing past her now white lips and forcing its way through her damp lashes. She'd tried to scream; tried to scream for her mummy, but no sound had come out. All it did was create another entrance for the violator. Her mind was screaming out for help, but it was a scream that never reached her lips. It echoed round her fragile mind, a mind that was too young to understand what was happening…a mind that was vulnerable. And a mind that now had no choice but to listen.
She looked up as her mother reached out a hand to her; her terror finally giving way as warmth slid down her legs and she shook with fear.
"Isobel! Do something!" the woman whispered as loudly as she dared; she didn't want to scare the child anymore than she had been. "Shhh, honey," she said softly before turning to Isobel. "You said no one was here!"
"Shut up, Ginny!" she spat back as she reached for her daughter, pulling her into her arms and holding her tight. "She was supposed to be asleep. Now pack and get your daft self over to the States…" she gave Virginia a small smile "You've a child to bring forth."
"Izzy…"
"Go!" she ordered, giving Ginny a push.
Ginny stood and stared at the little girl that sat trembling in her mother's arms; she shivered as those big green eyes shifted up to hers, eyes that seemed to see right into her. She turned quickly and left the room; not wanting to stare into those eyes any longer. Those eyes that seemed to accuse her.
"Mummymummymummymummymummymummymummy…" the little girl mumbled over and over; her teddy-bear clutched in one arm, the other clinging desperately to her mother.
"Shhh, it'll be alright, baby." Isobel said softly, stroking her daughter's damp forehead. "Mummy's here, Dee and everything will be alright now." She rocked her daughter gently, "Mummy's fixed everything. You're safe now, baby. Safe now, safe now, safe now, safe now, safe now..."
"Mummymummymummymummymummymummymummy…" she continued to whisper; her mantra mixing with her mother's and blocking the other whisper that hummed through her brittle mind…'my child, my child, my child...mine...mine...mine...'
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Carthage, South Dakota.
Eight moths later…
Isobel Richardson paced the small motel, her eyes going to her watch again before striding to the window and pushing the curtain back as she scanned the parking lot …again. Nothing. She dropped the threadbare material with disgust, stomping her way over to the bar fridge and grabbing a small bottle of whiskey. She wrenched the lid open and drank the amber liquid in two gulps; throwing the empty bottle into the sink and smashing it. She sighed, relishing the pleasant burn that scorched her throat.
She turned, stopping mid-step as she stared into small green eyes; "Don't look at me like that!" she snapped; her anger growing as her daughter's eyes followed her around the room. Those damn eyes that now seemed to know everything about her; that uncovered every lie, could see through every deceit and read every emotion. Eyes that told her she knew exactly what she was thinking with one glance.
She walked over to her daughter and crouched in front of her, putting a gentle hand to her face; "Say something, Dee."
She sighed as her daughter did nothing but stare at her; that bloody bear clutched to her chest. Dee hadn't said a word since that night eight months ago; almost three years old and she no longer spoke. She did nothing but stare at her mother, accusation shining brightly from her eyes. Didn't she understand she'd done this for her? Done this to save her?
She snapped her head up as she heard a car door slam outside. She was at the window in an instant, peeking through the curtains and smiling as she saw Ginny move quickly to the door of the motel room. She ignored the insistent knock as she went to Dee, picking her up and taking her to the bathroom. She picked up the bath-mat, placed it into the bath and sat Dee down gently.
"You stay here, Dee. Don't move and do not make a sound, okay baby? Mummy will deal with this and then you'll be safe. Okay?" Dee only stared. Isobel rose and pulled the shower curtain across, hiding her daughter.
She shut the door to the bathroom and went to the front door, opening it and yanking Ginny into the room, slamming and locking the door behind her. "Where the hell have you been?" she demanded, rounding on the woman. "You were supposed to be here yesterday!"
Ginny shuffled nervously from foot to foot; her eyes darting around the motel room. "I …I got here as soon as I could Izzy!"
"Well?"
"Something went wrong…he…I've bumped into him a few times now and …nothing. If I keep doing it, he'll get suspicious. We have to find another way…"
"There is no other way! You find Jack Riley and you make him…"
"I CAN'T!" Ginny yelled. "Don't you understand? He…" she was stopped by a slap.
"You listen to me, Ginny!" Isobel hissed, her anger rising like wildfire. "We performed the ceremony! There is no way Jack would say no to you!" she began to pace, her mind spinning. She turned to Ginny, "Where is he?"
"I …I don't know. He left here day before yesterday. I can't follow him. He's working with some other man…I don't trust him. He looks at me…he doesn't trust me, Izzy! There's got to be another way…"
Izzy turned on her, "There is no other way! You promised Her a child, Ginny. You owe Her!"
Ginny shook her head; "No, I …I made a mistake, Izzy," she said as she edged towards the door; "I don't want to do this anymore…I just want to go home…"
Izzy blocked her passage to the door, panic starting to set in. Ginny couldn't leave, she had to provide her with a child, it was the only way to save Dee. "There is no going home, Ginny!" she hissed. "You made a pact! You pay your dues!"
"NO!" she pushed Izzy out of the way. "I won't do it! You find someone else!"
"There is no one else, Ginny! You made a vow and …"
"I DIDN'T KNOW WHAT I WAS DOING!"
"You knew exactly what you were doing! I explained it to…" she stopped as realisation dawned on her. She pushed Ginny back against the wall and ripped her coat open, the small rise in her belly confirming it. She smiled in relief, Dee was safe.
Ginny pushed Izzy from her and ran towards the door; "STAY THE HELL AWAY FROM ME!"
But there was no way Izzy was letting her go. No way. The baby that was growing inside Ginny was the only thing that would save her daughter and nothing was going to get in the way of her doing that. She threw herself at Ginny, tackling her to the floor. "That baby belongs to me!"
"NO! IT'S MY BABY! MINE!" Ginny yelled as she tried to fight Izzy.
Izzy slammed Ginny's head against the floor, dazing her. She turned her over, sitting on her legs as she reached for her bag. She opened it quickly, her trembling fingers removing the ceremonial dagger she kept there. It didn't matter that the child hadn't been born, she'd take it now, she had no other choice. Goddamn! She had no other choice! Tears sprang to her eyes as she raised the dagger, "I'm sorry, Ginny. I am…but I have to."
"Please, Izzy! Don't…please don't…" Ginny begged; putting her hands protectively over her stomach. "I love this baby...you know how that feels…please…"
"That's why I have to do this, Ginny. To save my baby. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry," she said as tears slid down her cheeks. She raised the dagger and closed her eyes.
"Noooooooooooo…." Ginny wailed as she watched the blade waver above her friends head.
She turned as the door was kicked in; a knife flying over her head, Izzy's scream echoing round the small room. She felt her friend pitched off her and she scrambled backwards towards the door.
The man kicked the door shut behind him and went to her, inspecting her broken nose; "Can you drive?"
Ginny didn't say anything; just stared at the groaning form of Izzy.
"Can you drive!" he demanded.
She turned her eyes to his and nodded. "What are you doing here?"
"Trying to get you out of the fucking mess you're in, girl!" he said. He looked at her belly and turned disgusted eyes to her, "You got what you wanted," he spat as he hauled her to her feet. "You want to stay alive, you do exactly as I say. You run. You don't contact Jack again, ever. He doesn't find out about this," he pointed to her stomach. He turned his attention to Izzy, "I'll clean up this mess. Now get the fuck out of here."
"Don't kill her, please. You don't…"
"You say one more word and I'll kill you and her!" he pushed her to the door. "And if I see your face ever again, I'll kill you. Understand?"
She stared into the hunter's eyes, the hate coming at her like daggers, and she finally nodded. "Please, just…tell Jack…tell him…I love him."
"Get the fuck out of here!" he roared; opening the door and shoving her out. "The only reason I don't kill you is because of Jack! Now move!"
He slammed the door in her face, waiting until he heard the sound of tyres peeling out of the motel parking lot before going to the woman on the floor. He removed the dagger and checked the wound in her chest; it was deep, there was little time and he needed answers.
He hauled her into a sitting position and slapped her to get her to focus on him. "Name!" he demanded.
"Fuck you, arsehole!" she spat, blood flying from her lips and spattering his face.
"English. Interesting." He pulled a gun from the small of his back and trained it on her as he went to her bag and rummaged through it, finding her purse. He raised his eyes, "Isobel Richardson." He went to her, "It's over, Isobel."
Izzy laughed at the man in front of her; "You know nothing. That baby is marked. Ginny and I made sure it was." She leaned towards the man, "So you tell Jack Riley, that payback's a bitch! His child is promised …" she was stopped by the slap.
"You listen to me. There will be no bringing that bitch back. Your little ritual had nothing to do with Jack and Virginia. That was all them." He laughed, "You think I didn't spot it?"
Izzy laughed; "It's you who doesn't understand! It doesn't matter how, all that matters is that she promised a child…Jack's child. The sacrifice will happen either way. You wait and see!"
The man smiled at her; "Unless your dead, right? That ends it. You were the one that performed the ceremony. You die, it's null and void." He smiled; "Your fucked-up life for that of an innocent? I can live with that."
"You kill a human, you know where you go!" she hissed.
"I'll take my chances," he replied; taking a chair and sitting opposite her. "You're no better than the demons I hunt. I saved a child, I didn't kill one." He smiled at her, "So I'll wait you out," he looked at his watch, "Won't be much longer."
"You didn't save a child, you condemned one!" she hissed, blood bubbling from her mouth as her breath hitched. "I'll see you in Hell!" she spat, her eyes slowly taking on the glazed look of death he was starting to become all too used to.
He took a deep breath as her head slumped onto her chest; he reached out and put fingers to her throat; he sighed and stood. It was over. That bitch wouldn't rise and Jack's child - one he'd never know about - was safe. He turned and stopped; his heart lurching in his chest as he stared at the little girl in the bathroom door; a teddy-bear in her arms, her eyes glued to the bloodied body of who could only be her mother.
"Jesus…" he muttered. "Jesus Christ Almighty…"
He went to the child and picked her up; she didn't resist. He looked quickly around the room, and saw another bag beside one of the beds. He ran over, knelt next to it and unzipped it. Shit, kids clothes. He looked around the room, there were no toys about the place! He'd had no idea! Shit! Shit! Shit!
He threw the bag over his shoulder and turned her face away from her mother's body and went to the door; opening it quickly, locking it behind him and taking the girl to his truck. He belted her in and ran to the driver;s side and jumped in; he gunned the engine and fishtailed out of the lot and onto the highway…with absolutely no idea what he was going to do. He'd just killed a woman and stolen her child.
For the first time in a long time, Bobby Singer didn't know what to do.
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Present Day…
Dean, Sam, Riley and Dee stared at Bobby as the man leaned casually against the wall. His gaze was focussed on Riley, watching her reaction to his last sentence. He hid his frown as he saw Dean's arm tighten around her shoulders.
"What the hell do you mean you saved Jack from Ginny?" demanded Dee as she took a threatening step towards the man. "The only thing Ginny's a threat to is the international supply of ganja! Now fucking explain yourself!"
Bobby ignored her as he watched Riley; he saw the slight shift in her weight and he braced himself, but Sam had noticed it as well and put himself between them.
"Riley. Calm down, we'll get answers okay? I promise," said Sam as he leaned in, "Jumping him and beating the crap outta him isn't the way to do it."
"Ya think?" she snapped. She shrugged out of Dean's arm and pushed Sam out of the way; taking the two steps that put her directly in front of Bobby. "Lets get something straight, Bobby. Normally, I'm pretty easy going. I let a lot of things slide 'cause I just can't be bothered dealing with bullshit …and I'm a little lazy." She pushed her face towards him, her eyes hardening as she glared at the man, "But know this," she said with quiet menace, "You fuck with me, I'll kill you."
"Riley…" started Sam.
"Leave her be, Sam," Dee interrupted, pulling Sam away from Riley.
"You start talking, and if I so much as get a hint that you're lying to me, that you're trying to play me…" a sweet smile rose to her lips, "You won't see me coming."
Bobby stared into Riley's eyes, his smile matching hers; "You don't scare me, Cinnamon," Bobby stated calmly, ignoring Sam's groan.
Riley smiled again as she leaned over and whispered in his ear; "Good. Just remember who trained me."
"How about we all sit and …" started Sam.
"I'll stand," said Riley as she took a step backwards, "And I'm waiting for an answer."
"Well I'm not ready to give you an answer, Cinnamon."
"Her name is Riley," Dee intoned angrily, her fists clenching. "And you better bloody well start talking or …"
"Or what?" Bobby asked.
"You really want an answer to that?" she asked.
"Alright. This stops right here!" Dean angered. "I don't know what the hell's going on with you Bobby, but you listen and you listen good." He took a step towards the man; "Me and Sammy trust Riley and Dee and Dad trusted them. And you know Dad didn't freakin' well trust anyone. So you need to start explaining why you don't."
"And no bullshit, Bobby," said Sam as he placed a calming hand on his brother's shoulder. "We came here for some help, we always come here for help. Me and Dean trust you…you need to trust us on this one. Come on, man." He smiled at Bobby, "It's us, Bobby."
"Is it?"
Dee laughed; "No, we're doppelgangers with high aspirations. We plan on taking over the world, one shitty cabin at a time."
"Keep it up, chuckles," snapped Bobby.
"HOW THE HELL DO YOU KNOW MY DAD!" Riley yelled.
"Easy, Riley…" said Dean placatingly, putting his arm around her.
She shrugged out of it and glared at Bobby; "You don't want to tell me? I'll fucking well figure it out for myself!" she turned and stormed towards the door, kicking the screen open, swearing up a storm as she stomped out.
"Nice one, Bobby," said Sam sarcastically; watching as Dee went after Riley.
"Jesus Christ, Bobby!" Dean exclaimed, "Just tell us what the hell is going on?"
Bobby sighed; "Sit down, boys. Come on, sit."
Dean and Sam exchanged a glance at the sudden change in Bobby's demeanour after Riley and Dee's departure. They moved over to the sofa; Sam lowering his tall frame onto the cushions as Dean took his position on the arm of the sofa; the sound of Dee and Riley's muffled arguing filtering slowly into the house.
"Well?" asked Sam.
"Seriously, boys. How much do you know about them?"
"Jesus, Bobby. We explained that already," said Dean with exasperation. "They saved our asses in Vermont, we saved theirs in Nevada."
"Jack was killed in Nevada," Bobby stated.
"Yeah," said Dean softly as he glanced at the man he looked up to like a father; "He died trying to save me and Sammy, Bobby."
"You were there?"
"We were there," said Sam. "That yellow-eyed bastard ripped him open in front of us. That's how we hooked up with Dee and Riley again. We didn't know who he was until he told us his name...right before he died."
"Lilith," Bobby stated as Dean and Sam nodded.
"You knew Jack was hunting her?" asked Sam.
"No, of course not! I knew he was hunting something, he was always hunting something. Never told me what."
"Then how the hell'd you find out? We've never told anyone," said Dean as he rose.
"Are you two idjits?" he put up a hand, "Don't answer that. You think her death didn't spread like wildfire through the community? No one knows who did it, but I put two and two together and figured out it was Jack."
"It wasn't Jack," said Sam. "It was Dean and Riley," he sighed. "Look, just forget about that for now. Why the hell are you pissed at Riley? You've never met her and if you knew Jack well, you'd know how much he loved her. So what is it?"
Bobby looked at Dean, "What's going on with you and her?"
"Her name's Riley, Bobby. Use it."
"You gonna answer my question, Dean?"
Dean shrugged; "So we hook up when we're together. What's wrong with that? It's not like we're gonna start hunting together or anything." He grinned at his brother; "I'm already hunting with a girl."
"Asshole," said Sam with a laugh.
"So you and she…" Bobby raised an eyebrow.
"You're not getting details you dirty ol' bastard," said Dean with a laugh. "We're hanging out for a while, then we go our separate ways. Down time, Bobby. You've heard of that, right?"
Bobby nodded slowly, what he'd seen between them was more than just a convenient hook-up. "So if she left tonight, you'd be fine with that."
"Sure," said Dean. "Like I said, we have fun when we're together then…" he shrugged. "She goes her way, I go mine. No strings. Works for both of us."
"And if she hooked up with someone else?" Bobby asked. He noticed the slight hardening of Dean's eyes and the way his right hand tightened on his leg.
"She can hook up with anyone she wants. We're not freakin' well married, Bobby. What is it with all the damn questions?"
Sam was trying not to stare at his brother; was he kidding? Why the hell was Dean lying to Bobby? He frowned to himself; was Dean even aware that he was lying?
Bobby ignored Dean's question and turned to Sam, "And you and Dee?"
"What?" He frowned before his eyes widened comically. "Good God, no!" he said a little forcefully. "Dean and Riley bang their brains out, me and Dee suffer in silence…and I mean suffer."
"Again, in the room, dude," said Dean as he cuffed his brother across the back of the head. He turned to Bobby, "So you gonna answer my question, Bobby? What the hell's going on with you and Riley?"
Bobby stood, "I need to check some stuff first. You and your…friends can stay here. You know where the rooms are."
"Bobby…" started Sam. He sighed as he watched the man disappear down the hallway, his bedroom door slamming and locking behind him. He turned to Dean; "What the hell?"
Dean shrugged, "Guess we find out tomorrow." He stood, "You even think about rooming with me, dude, I'll kick your ass."
Sam watched as his brother disappeared out the front door; how could Dean just leave it like that? It wasn't like him. He turned his eyes back to the hallway then to the front door and back again. Everyone was lying. Dean, Bobby, Dee and Riley; they were all keeping secrets and keeping secrets where they were concerned only ever came back to bite them on the ass. They'd learned that the hard way. Secrets and lies...those idiots were swimming in them.
He dropped his head into his hands; a small groan escaping his lips. So was he. Shit, so was he.
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Their hands worked quickly, their clothes a barrier between them they would no longer tolerate. It was skin against skin for which they hungered. The feel of hard muscle under feather-light touches; calloused hands grazing over supple curves; nails scraping over heated skin and fingers digging into flushed flesh. They craved it.
Hearts were racing; hands were exploring as their mouths devoured each other. Moans, soft and loud filled the room as their hunger intensified. It was an intoxicating mix of the senses. Touch, taste, sound, sight and scent…it wound around them, enslaving them. Each of them the other's devoted prisoner.
His hands slid slowly down her back, picking her up and taking her to the bed, but he couldn't wait any longer, he had to be inside her, and pushed in deep before he lay her down; her arching back bringing him deeper.
His lips moved down to her neck, biting her, marking her and she begged for more. Begged for everything he could give her; she wanted to drown in him. A slow, erotic death of lust and desire was what she prayed for.
He raised his head to her pleas, pinning her arms to the bed as he stared into her eyes; "You belong to me," he growled. "Understand?"
She nodded; unable to break his gaze…and not wanting to. Her legs tightened around him, urging him on, but he only teased her. "Say it, Riley," he demanded. "Say it and I'll give you what you want."
"I belong to you…."
"Only me."
"Only you, Dean.." she gasped, "Only you."
He smiled, "Only me…" he mumbled against her neck, his lips whispering over the throbbing of her blood through her throat; the throat, the body that was his. His and only his. He bit down hard, his teeth breaking the skin as she cried out in pain and pleasure; the sound of her, the power he held over her tipping him over the edge and he exploded in an ecstasy so intense, his vision clouded and he could see nothing but her eyes; hear nothing but her whispering his name, taste nothing but her blood and sweat…her on his lips.
He raised his head; sweat and blood dripping onto her; "You own me," he whispered as he pulled her lips to his throat; "Own me…"
To be continued…
