This is my first Digimon fic, though I planned one two, or so, years back-
it has been lost. I can't stand season 3 and only watch through 1 and 2.
To top that off, it was on American children's' television, so don't blame
me. I'm still memorizing Japanese names for characters.
Thank you to Cairnsy, one of my favorite authors, whose Digimon fics got me
back into this Anime again. I had forgotten how much I loved it.
I have no beta on this; if you find a mistake, please tell me.
This is Love.
She's actually withering. Her head is thrown back, she is tossing, and everything. She feels so soft beneath my fingers. Fingers I have never used on another being but her and myself. She moans my name; she doesn't scream it, not yet. She wants me to move faster; I can tell by the way she arches into my touch. I can see the sweat underneath her eyes and on top of her collarbone.
Her collarbone, I love it. It is so defined, so perfect to kiss when I hold her. She is mine, I know. I am the one who kisses her lips, the one who holds her, the one who loves her.
I can feel her buck beneath me again; it works in making me move faster. She is panting now, whispering to some higher deity about the pleasure.
This is me. Only I can make her feel this pleasure, she tells me. Only me. She screams my name now, screams it. That alone makes me smile, makes me love her even more.
She's dying for this to be over. I'm no sadist, but I do love this control. She is at my will; she's just lucky I care for her enough to not sustain her like this. And then, finally, she screams, exhausted and spent.
I lay down next to her, my head on her lovely chest. She loves it when I touch her; I love it when she wraps her arms around me and holds onto me in the night.
"You are a goddess, Sora."
I can't help but laugh. "No Mimi," I tell her, "you are the goddess and this was just my offering." I can tell she is smiling, even without seeing her face. And I could lie her, with her, forever, happy and blissful.
And I know this is love.
~Fini~
This is Love.
She's actually withering. Her head is thrown back, she is tossing, and everything. She feels so soft beneath my fingers. Fingers I have never used on another being but her and myself. She moans my name; she doesn't scream it, not yet. She wants me to move faster; I can tell by the way she arches into my touch. I can see the sweat underneath her eyes and on top of her collarbone.
Her collarbone, I love it. It is so defined, so perfect to kiss when I hold her. She is mine, I know. I am the one who kisses her lips, the one who holds her, the one who loves her.
I can feel her buck beneath me again; it works in making me move faster. She is panting now, whispering to some higher deity about the pleasure.
This is me. Only I can make her feel this pleasure, she tells me. Only me. She screams my name now, screams it. That alone makes me smile, makes me love her even more.
She's dying for this to be over. I'm no sadist, but I do love this control. She is at my will; she's just lucky I care for her enough to not sustain her like this. And then, finally, she screams, exhausted and spent.
I lay down next to her, my head on her lovely chest. She loves it when I touch her; I love it when she wraps her arms around me and holds onto me in the night.
"You are a goddess, Sora."
I can't help but laugh. "No Mimi," I tell her, "you are the goddess and this was just my offering." I can tell she is smiling, even without seeing her face. And I could lie her, with her, forever, happy and blissful.
And I know this is love.
~Fini~