Author's Note: Random bit I wrote during a break at work.
She is crashing around him like liquid fire, searing his skin where they meet and scalding his fingers as they travel her curves. The wild tangled mane of gold she normally tames is spread gloriously on his bed, spilling over greys and blues and standing out more brilliantly because of it. His hands are roaming of their own accord, threading through her hair and bruising her hip and feeling every inch of her bared frame.
They are no longer human.
There is something more to what they are now, pieces finding a whole and God, he can't think of another moment when he felt this primal serenity. Her pliant, soft, wickedly curved body has opened to him, enveloped him, and if it weren't for her name escaping his lips, he would have forgotten how to breathe long ago.
He is coming undone.
She whispers soft words fanned with heat, and his body responds with a shiver, a tremor he can't hide. Their skin is slicked, and hers has taken on a glow, fueling his imagination that she is a goddess of light and fire, a creature he'd dreamed of holding, or tasting, but never once had he thought this woman would touch him the same.
Cerulean nails track marks across his back, tracing over scars and memories, and he realizes she is taking all of it away. She is making him hers, washing away what was with the sharp light of now, and she is doing it with her lips and her tongue and the words that make him weak.
There is no going back.
She is his light.
He can no longer live in the dark.
