Lightening flashed through the wooden windowpane of the sitting room in Ebon Askavi. It was well past midnight. Marian lay with her wings tucked around her, huddled on the warm, comfortable couch, but she was neither warm nor comfortable. She was ice cold with fear. Fear of a flavor and intensity she had never tasted before. It was cold, bitter and painful, for it was a fear for the life of the man she loved – a cruel, savage, dark man, known for his ferocity. He was famous for the massacres he had imparted on those who would dare to make themselves his mistresses. The soft spoken, iron willed, light jeweled Marian had lost her heart to the most dangerously powerful man possible: Lucivar Yaslana.
She had not known who he was when he had hired her as his maid, to cook and clean for him. He had called himself Yasi and his eyes had been kind, so she accepted. When she had discovered that her messy, absentminded employer was the ebon-gray jeweled warlord prince son of Saetan, her fear had exploded. She had heard so many tales of the brutal killing sprees he and his brother Daemon had caused and the mutilated survivors. But he did not change; he was still the same man she had first met. He was kind to her and cared for her, taught her how to defend herself…with a skillet no less. It was not long before the he had claimed her heart. Her mind's eye roamed over the conjured contours of his face, the strong chiseled jaw and hard, sharp, piercing eyes, the sexy, messy tangles of his long black hair. Her mind's eye continued, over the bulging muscles of his chest and shoulders and the great expanse of dark membranous wings behind him.
She could almost believe he was there with her and she calmed a little at the thought of his presence. Then she opened her eyes and the space before her was blatantly and painfully vacant. Marian felt her heart clench. Yasi had left yesterday night, just before sunset. He had received word that his brother, Daemon, lost for the past 5 years, had been sighted in Terrelle. Like the brash, impulsive idiot that he could be, Yasi had taken off immediately in search of his brother without any planning whatsoever. He had not thought for one second to consider that it might be a trap. It was not like it hadn't happened before: an overzealous Queen thought she could trap the famous and much desired ex-pleasure slave by luring him with the prospect of finding his brother. So many times had he taken off and been caught in a fight, and it was Marian who had to clean up his wounds and deal with an irritable Yasi afterwards. The bloody prick had been gone for a night and day and still no word from him. She had not left Yasi's home since he had gone to find Daemon, and she would not leave until he returned safely.
She tried to coax herself to the natural calm steel that was her most distinguishing trait but found she could not. During the day she had simply dealt with her fears and done what needed to be done, but now, in the cold, dark night, when she was left all alone, she could do nothing but worry. He didn't even know she loved him; she had never told him. Her fear that he would die without that knowledge bubbled within her and began to choke her, cutting off, not her air supply, but her life.
Then the door slammed open with a bone-breaking force, the sound echoing in Marian's happy ears. Yasi! Only one man could express that much anger in a door slam. She leapt out of her chair and bound into the entryway of the house to meet him. She stopped abruptly as she came face to face with him. His eyes locked on hers. She appraised him quickly, he was messy, dirty, and blood flowed freely from cuts in his chest, forehead and thigh, but this was not unusual. His head hung low on his usually straight, proud shoulders and his indomidable black wings sagged in defeat. His eyes…his eyes were worst of all, for they held tears. Marian could not move as he stumbled past her into the sitting room and unsteadily plopped down on a plush armchair.
"Go home, Marian," He said in the softest voice.
Marian could scarcely hear it but it was enough to rouse her from her shock. Silently, she left the room and entered the pantry where she gathered the things she needed to clean his wounds. She looked back at the panty shelves once more and grabbed a full bottle of whiskey. She walked back to Yasi, the soft pattering of her bare feet the only sound in the house. He sat, unmoving, staring out the window into oblivion. A single wet trail from his eye to his chin told volumes. She set her things down and began to clean a rather large gouge in his bicep, picking out inch-long splinters of wood and chunks of gravel. Still, he did not move.
"I thought I told you to go home, Marian," He said without looking at her.
"You need tending to," She said simply, still cleaning the wound.
"Go home, Marian," He forced through clenched teeth. She could see the muscles in his jaw twitching and the vein on his forehead start to protrude. Marian said nothing. He jumped up and stood menacingly before her, grabbing a handful of her hair and forcing her head back, one hand against her throat, his face not more than a few inches from her own.
"Go home, Marian!" He bellowed in her face, teeth bared. She could smell the blood on him. Marian's face remained passive. She looked into his pained eyes and her own crinkled in concern. Gently, she reached up and pushed a few strands of hair away from his face.
"No," she said softly, but resolutely. Yasi threw her away from him and backed way from her, a wail rising in his throat. He burried his face in his hands.
"Why can't you just leave me alone! Just leave me the fuck alone!"
Marian could see his back heaving in anguish. She walked up behind him.
She reached for him, hesitant and unsure, and placed her hands on his biceps, pressing her forehead against the broad expanse of his heaving back between his wings.
"He's gone. My brother's gone. It was a trick…again. They never saw him. There's no sign of him. It's been five years and there's no sign of him. How can that be, Marian? How is that possible? How is that fucking possible?!"
Marian moved closer, wrapping her arms and wings around him and now pressing her whole length reassuringly into his back.
"I don't know, Yasi, but you'll find him somehow."
"Find him dead…or worse."
He turned and buried his face in Marian's neck. She stroked his head.
"You'll find him, Yasi. I know you will."
"He was my friend…my brother…I've nearly killed him dozens of times, but…he was my friend. He understood. Bastard, where are you?"
Marian let him pour out his grief until there was not more and he was still. She listened to his calm breathing before untangling herself from him. She held his face her hands and gently kissed his forehead. Taking her hand in his, Yasi let her lead him to the bathroom. He was numb; he couldn't feel anything. He had repressed this fear for so long. It had all surfaced at once and it was so incredibly over whelming.
Marian filled the tub with steaming water and turned to him. She tugged at his belt gently and he got the hint, removing his pants. Marian poured a generous glass of whisky and took a long drink. She refilled the glass and handed it to him as she guided him into the tub. She had long since become accustomed to his nakedness for Yasi slept bare and it was not unusual for him to remain that way around the house as long as he had nowhere to go. Even when he did leave the house, he usually wore only the tight black pant he wore now. Marian had no reason to complain; he was a beautiful piece of flesh.
She scrubbed him gently with a sponge, mindful of his wounds. He let her, not moving to stop her though he had never before let a woman touch him this way. Most that had tried now resided in Hell. Only Jaenelle had touched him and lived, and her touch had been nothing like this. Marian's touch was warm and intimate but unobtrusive. He fingered the ends of her hair absently. He had first thought her soft, quiet and weak, so he had taken it upon himself to protect her, but he soon found her to be anything but soft and weak. True, she was quiet, but she was steely, calm and collected but tender. She had a strength of her own; that became evident when she had defied him. He could demolish her yet she showed no fear – she had not run, but stayed. Her coolness had quenched his fiery pain. He remembered the feel of her wrapped around him; it was like a balm.
He stepped out of the tub and dried himself. He moved into his bedroom, folded his wings, and sat on the edge of the large four-post bed. Marian soon followed with a needle and thread. She sat beside him and began to stitch his wounds shut. Yasi ran a hand through his wet and sighed as he watched Marian work. He opened his mouth to say something and shut it again. She peered up at him, sensing his conflict
"Thank you…for everything," He finally squeezed out. She blinked and merely smiled up at him. She used her teeth to cut the string as she finished sewing up the final wound.
"Any time," her smile widened a bit, but Yasi could sense a tension, like there was something she was not saying. He honed in on it. She rose to leave, and suddenly Yasi didn't want her to. He grabbed her arm and tugged her back down. She looked at him quizzically, a question in her eyes. But he had no answer. He just had the overwhelming desire to keep her with him.
"I…" he had no answer.
Marian surprised him, speaking up, "I had wanted…you left and…I didn't…" she took a deep breath and stared down at her hands. Yasi tilted her head up with two finders.
"It's ok. Go on." Yasi urged, strangely excited yet unexplicably afraid.
"You left so suddenly. And then I didn't hear from you," Marian swallowed hard and her eyes shone, " and I thought you might be gone. And I realized…" She swallowed again and looked off to the side, out the window. It was getting harder and harder to speak. " I realized I couldn't bare for you to leave."
That was the best she could force out, but it seemed pathetically inadequate to her. If he left, she would more that miss him; a piece of her would die if he left. She would miss everything about him. The way he made her laugh when he would throw tantrums and the smallest things. The way he would curse at the pots and pans when his cooking didn't turn out right. Or how he had taught her how to use kitchen items as weapons and then tease her about killing him with her cooking.
But Yasi understood. He could read what she was saying in her eyes. And he wrapped her in his arms. She clung to him tightly. But then she pulled away, a moved to get up.
"I… I have to go…" She looked around her bewildered. She wanted to love him so badly, but she was so unsure. He was hurting and needed her comfort, but…did he lover her? He was unfamiliar with love. That much she knew, but could he love her? He tugged at her to sit back down,
"Stay."
"I have to go." She turned to leave, but she heard him, in that soft voice say one single word.
"Please…" She turned and saw in his eyes that he wanted her…needed her…every bit as much as she needed him. She walked back to him and stood before him. He ran his hands lightly up and down her arms and she felt he hair on the back of her neck rise. He moved his hands to her bare waits, for she wore a shirt that was tied only around her arms and across her chest to leave her wings free. He ran his fingertips up and down her sides, dangerously close to her breast. Her breath now came in short spurts and her head felt light. She couldn't breath. Yasi watched her breasts heave as she struggled to maintain control. Up and down, nipples now standing at attention. Yasi felt his arousel flare to life. Suddenly, he attacked her mouth with his own, invading, prying, pleasuring. He kissed her hard; he was afraid he would hurt her, afraid she would fear him, but he couldn't stop. And somewhere, some part of him wanted her to see him like this - wild and unrestrained like the animal that he was– wanted her to see what he had never dared show her before.
When he felt her dig her hands into his hair, he knew she was everything he thought her to be: unafraid and strong enough to accept this side of him. He kissed her savagely, all the more aroused by her lack of fear. And she kissed him back, her tenderness balancing his ferocity. He groaned against her mouth and moved to her neck, licking down to her shoulder. He dug his teeth into the soft flesh there, biting hard, leaving marks. Fear flared in him again; he didn't want to hurt her, but he wanted her so bad. She moaned, not only in pain, but in pleasure as he bit down. He unbuttoned her pants and slipped his hand inside. He cupped her with one hand and squeezed her ass with the other. She gasped, arching her body to his fingers. He picked her up and threw her on the bed. She layed down on her back, wings spread out behind her, in the position of submission and trust. Yasi climbed on top of her and kissed her, his hand slipped inside her pants again and moved her panties aside as he stoked her, spreading her wetness around her groin. She moaned, low and deep within her chest, as he jammed two finders inside of her, he pumped furiously in and out of her, scissoring his fingers, never releasing her mouth.
"Oh sweet darkness," she breathed as she neared the edge.
"Scream. Scream for me."
Her orgasm came like a tidal wave and her body convulsed wildly as it wracked her nerves but she bit her lip until it bled and did not make a sound. Yasi smirked at her subtle defiance. What a woman. She opened her eyes and he took his fingers out of her, licking her cum from them with great relish before her.
"Now look what I've done: I've gone and made you cum with all you clothes on," he taunted her. The groin of her pants was indeed soaked with her pleasure.
Marian, still panting, smiled as she watched Yasi's eyes bugg out when she untied her top and let it slide off, revealing taught, perky breasts. She smiled softly and reached up to him she cupped his face and drew it to her breasts. He licked the tips of each one before taking one in each hand and claiming her lips. He pulled her pants down with one hand and, with the other, squeezed her tit until she yelped. Marian kicked her pants the rest of the way off. Yasi took a moment to admire her beautiful body, long, strong legs and flat stomach, and the soft fur where the two met, her heaving breasts…Yasi's mouth began to water. He ran his hands down her hips to her legs, where they caught just behind the knee. He spread her legs and drew her toward him, her slit glistening. She reached for his cock and stroked him till it wept. Yasi kissed her, tenderly for the first time in his life, but it only contrasted how he jammed inside her, thrusting his hips forward as he yanked her legs back. Marian arched her back as he filled her, gasping for breath. He drove into her, his wings spread to their full breadth behind him, her hips bucking up to meet his. He shifted slightly and he heard her gasp. "Ya like that, eh?" He smirked, and thrust the same way again. She moaned loudly
"Right there?" He grinned evily.
"Mother of Darkness, yes." He pulled out of her and she made an odd sort of whining noise. He jammed it into her, pounding into her faster that before.
"Scream." He grinned above her. She bit her lip.
"Scream for me." She bit down harder.
"Hell's Fire, Maaaariaan. I need you. Fuck. Let me hear you scream. I need to hear you scream." He pounded into her, clenching the sheets. He was hitting just the right spot. Marian could feel it building, far more powerful than the last. And then it came. She felt it gush out of her and she screamed; screamed like never before; screamed the name that struck fear into the hearts of the bravest of me; screamed the name of her lover, of the man she would love for the rest of her life; she screamed for Lucivar.