He didn't let go of her, even as they walked into their room. She stumbled a little bit, uneasy on her feet. He caught her, holding her firm.
They stood still, in the dark and silence, feeling the weight of the night and the wine. He looked down at her.
She clutched his arm tightly, using him to hold herself up. He brushed her hair aside with his free hand.
"How much longer until it grows back?"
"I don't know."
"I much preferred it before."
"Well, it's not your hair, is it?"
He ignored her insolence, continuing to watch her.
She tried to shift her weight and stumbled, causing him to tighten his grip. She leaned into him, using him as support to hold her treacherously wavering frame. He took advantage of her reliance, slipping his arms around her, his lips dancing at her neck.
"I have you-no need to worry." His hands slid across her, feeling her lithe body. "I have you."
She shut her eyes tightly, letting herself be maneuvered against his motions. He rolled into her, edging his way into her presence. She let him, his hands greedy travelers mapping the landscape of her tired form. She tightened her grip. He continued to kiss along her neck, leaving red marks as a trail behind him. She sighed, moving her shoulder out of his way as he directed her through touch.
And then he was laying her down, standing between her legs, leaning over her. He kissed her roughly as his hand slid along her thigh. She leaned her head to the side, watching the blank pattern of the wall. He paused.
"What's happening?"
"Nothing, it's okay."
"Not as fiery as you used to be. Did attempted murder take that out of you too?" She didn't reply. He sighed, taking his hands off her, bracing against the bed. "I don't appreciate being lied to, and marital dishonesty is unbecoming in a woman. What's happening with you?"
"Nothing, I've told you, it's nothing. I just… realized I had forgotten my own birthday."
He paused, calculating, "When… what month-"
"Last week. It was last week."
"Another trip around the sun." He looked down at her, resigned to her distraction. "If it helps, you're not an old hag yet. You're still young enough to be pretty."
She wanted to hit him for that, but she didn't have the energy, so she just hummed a noncommittal note. His hand wandered back to her waist, drawing soft designs against her skin. She closed her eyes.
His fingers moved across the side of her hip and then gingerly, slowly, explored further up, until he had made his way over to the skin below her breast, still mapping out round patterns with the pad of his finger gently, less urgently.
"You are a very beautiful woman, you know."
"So I've been told."
"You don't think so?"
"I've never cared enough to check."
He brushed at her hair gently, moving back down to kiss along her jaw, "Every woman cares."
"I don't."
"Well, it's a good thing that mine's the only opinion that matters." She didn't reply, still staring off as he busied himself with whatever it was that he got out of marking up the side of her jugular like a 16 year old boy. "Don't worry-give it a moment and I'll make you feel beautiful."
"I wasn't worried."
"Then what's got you so bothered?"
She sighed, "Don't you ever just think about how strange everything is? How none of this makes any sense?"
He scoffed but didn't give over his work, "Of course it makes sense. You just can't see the big picture."
She shook her head no, softly, "Nothing about it seems right. And now another year has passed and everything is still… out of place."
He leaned back, looking down at her, "Darling, everything about this is inevitable."
"Would you stop trying to get laid and listen to me?"
He frowned, miffed, "I am listening. You're just… wrong."
"As ever, I suppose."
"No, look, it's like this," he moved to the bed beside her, "sure, you could have made any one out of your hundreds of choices differently; there are although too many ways for your life to have gone, okay? There are too many what-ifs. But you, for whatever reason, didn't make those choices. And it's not luck, every part of you was ready to end up here. It was inevitable." She looked away, flicking off his words.
"Haven't I already told you off for trying to act philosophical in order to seduce me?"
"Not everything I do has to be about you."
"I wish it wouldn't."
"Meaning?"
"I don't know." She paused, collecting her thoughts. "I'd very much like to just… not, for a while."
"Not?"
"Not worry, not think. Not exist."
He stared at her.
"And what good would that do you?"
"It would prevent more bad."
"Surely not everything is so bad."
She looked over at him, those damnable dark eyes acting as the weight of a fishing line, "Most everything."
"Is this bad?"
"Not particularly." She looked away again. He hesitated, and then slowly, placed his hand on her side, drawing deep circles with his thumb. She closed her eyes.
"Is this?"
"I don't know. No, I suppose not."
She was exquisite, her moral ambiguity only acting to further the gifts nature had given her. He sat up, leaning over her, softly bringing his lips down to hers.
"And this?" The words were whispered against her mouth.
Her breath was broken up as she drew it in, "It could be." He hummed a note of understanding, then leaning down, kissed her again. She kissed him back, her light fingers raising to his face.
His hand slid down, savoring the warmth of the skin beneath her clothes, the soft curves of her body. He reached the tender skin at the back of her knee, and then, slowly, made his way back up until his fingers brushed the hem of her dress. He paused, giving her a chance to interrupt, but she didn't make any attempt to stop him. He fanned his fingers out as he made his way along her leg, feeling her sigh catch behind his teeth as he kissed her again. He wandered to her inner thigh and then paused, tracing more circles.
"And this? Is this bad?" He whispered the words between her parted lips.
"Yes. It is very bad."
"Bad as in 'stop,' or bad enough to make it good?"
"Good, very good, but it shouldn't be." Her words were warm against him.
"Don't worry about what it should be, just let it be what it is." He kissed her again, her fingers tightening against him.
She gasped lightly as he touched her, and he took the chance to invite his tongue between her teeth, savoring the way she moved so easily to his unspoken command. He pushed himself down against her, trying to get closer, to taste the delicious blush that colored her cheeks. He slipped his fingers inside her, into the thrumming warmth, and she pulled out of the kiss, pressing her face to his shoulder, trying to stifle the sound she made in response. He moved his free hand, pushing her back, painfully moving her further away from himself.
"No, I want to be able to look at you."
"You're just being a jerk."
"Maybe so, but you can't deny me."
"Stop fooling around-"
"I'm not. I'm getting what I want. This may be a surprise, but I do enjoy the sight of you enjoying me." He pushed his long fingers into her, and she arched against his hands, her face still showing the same novice surprise it had the first time. Her hands fluttered to her mouth, covering another gasp. He smirked, "There we go, that's good."
Her shaking hands reached for his shoulders, scrunching the fabric tight between her fingers. She wanted to say something, anything, to put herself back in charge, but he had all the power at the moment, and he was making her bones positively shake. She tried to bite back another gasp, but it escaped her as an embarrassingly needy moan. He tried and failed to stifle his exuberant reaction. She pushed herself up so that she was braced on one elbow, pulling him down by the collar of his shirt into a deep kiss, feeling him fumble a bit at his conflicting feelings as she, equally distracted, began to undo the buttons.
His hands against her were a warm static that enveloped her slowly. He knew exactly what he wanted and exactly how to get it. She could see his muscles flex as he moved, taking charge, placing her exactly as he wanted her to be. It was almost like watching someone direct a play; he was so certain and so right, every single time.
And then her hands were searching for his belt, and he had to fight the urge to quicken her pace. The amount of effort it took to make his actions suggest that he was in control was more than frustrating. He slid his hands along her legs again, letting them rest on her hips, feeling the strain and vibrations as she swallowed a moan, turning it into a whimper. She pushed herself up ever so slightly, pulling back a few inches. Her arms crossed her body, pulling off her dress in that way that all girls somehow are born knowing how to do, revealing the soft skin beneath, and for a moment he forgot to breathe. How could she still be so enticing? He pressed his lips against her, nipping at the soft skin along her abdomen, relishing the way she pulled back at the slight pinch, successfully maneuvering herself further into his arms. He pressed himself to her, wanting to claim every bit of her, pushing his tongue into her mouth. Her arms encircled him delightfully as he tugged off her still peskily present undergarments, getting them out of the way. Finally satisfied, he ran his hands back up the length of her legs, enjoying every inch of her. Her lips were pressed to his shoulder, and the sounds she made could have killed him. He rocked against her, her hands clutching at his back, holding him.
"Is this good?" His words were breathier than he would have liked.
"I want it to be."
He kissed along the side of her neck and shoulder, rocking against her hips, "But this, is this good?"
"Yes, it's good."
For a moment there was just the sound of their breathing, rising and harmonizing in the air.
"Can I make it better?"
"Yes, please."
He moved his hand so that it rested on the side of her hips, his thumb just below the barely-visible scar from so long ago. Still fighting the urge to move too quickly, he held onto her tightly as he slid inside her. Her grip tightened, her fingers leaving small marks on his back as she gasped at his hard presence. She was so small, so… corruptible.
He glanced over her features to make sure she was okay, and then still holding her down, slid himself all the way inside. She let out a gasp that turned into a groan as he began to move, rolling himself against her.
"That's good, there you go," he kissed the words along her cheekbone, knotting his hand in her hair.
She gave out staccato cries in time with his slow thrusts, her fingers digging into him as he moved. Her hands fled to the side of his face, her breath hot as she pulled him back into a kiss, holding him tight to her. He pressed into her with an urgency as she arched against him, those wonderfully parted lips gasping musical notes against his open mouth. His hand slipped up her frame until he was pushing her down again, away from him.
"I've already told you," his words were broken up by his ragged breathing, "I want to see you."
"Then give me something for you to see." Her words were sharp but a slight stutter betrayed her. Her rather obvious ploy worked, and his hands tightened against her as he began to pound into her more quickly. She cried out, pushing up against his touch.
His hand left her shoulder, exploring her breast, still amazed at how soft she was. Her thighs pressed into his sides, her hips trying to rise to meet him. He held her, his thumb tight to the joint of her leg, trying to keep her still.
He had always been this same person; so desperate to have what he wanted. In this moment she could take solace in being the thing that he wanted, but only time would tell exactly how long that would last. His grip was tight, so tight it would have hurt if it hadn't felt exactly right. His head ducked down as he pressed gasping kisses to her sternum, her abdomen, her chest, leaving telltale flushed marks across her. He had to write his name across everything he saw; he was never content to let something simply be. She tried not to read too much into it for fear of generating false hope. Sure, he was claiming her now, but bruises fade quickly. He slid his hands across her skin and her toes curled.
He was right; she was so beautiful. And maybe she wasn't his, but she was his. It was a shame no one would ever understand the extent of his victory, could never understand how when she was all stretched out, the word "yes" caught on her teeth, how she was a kingdom to be explored and conquered. Still, he was filled with a roaring pride at being the only one to know. She was El Dorado, she was Atlantis, she was his.
The sounds he pulled from her were a song he longed to play over and over again, and so again and again he pressed against her in ways that made her marvelously vocal. He rocked into her swiftly, balancing his weight above her, savoring the rare moment of having her speechless. She still didn't know how to properly behave, and she kept pushing back, pushing against him, looking for more. He would gladly give her anything with open palm if only he could continue to work over the map of her skin.
Her fingers dug into him beautifully as she came, her countenance humorously concerned, as if she still hadn't quite figured out how it all happened. He still held her back, enjoying the slight spill of her hair behind her, a dark halo outlining her pale features. She was dark and treacherous ocean waters, hidden horrors, and he wanted to be consumed in her depth, wanted to be Mercader to her form.
He grit his teeth as he finished soon after, acutely aware of how hard his fingers were digging into her. She made no move to pull away, encircling his neck with her arms, holding him close enough that he could feel the speed of her heart. What a silly girl, he thought to himself, and yet, he felt his own heart pounding in his chest as he lay down, relaxing his hands slowly, practically dissipating into the bed. She rolled closer to him, moving into the radiating heat of his body, trying to catch her breath. He snaked his arm across her, running his hand up and down her spine softly. She shivered at his touch, her skin still overwhelmed and sensitive.
He listened to the sound of her breathing, wondering, trying to figure out how any of this could ever be anything but good.
..
...
..
AN-
Thank you so much for all of your messages! They really do mean a lot
As a token of my gratitude, please accept this moment of almost-niceness
Cheers