( * * * )
Dallas let his eyes travel the length of Laine's body and sighed. Bringing up his right hand to rub at his eyes, the young man shifted against the sheets and let out a tired yawn. Last night had been…for lack of a better word, phenomenal…Especially because it had been so long since they'd last been together. Dally cast Laine a side-glance.
She was beautiful. Her pale, white-blonde hair cascading in delicate waves about her naked back…she was beautiful. Dallas let his gaze linger on the young girl's face for a few seconds. Her hair, sweaty and tangled, clung to the contours of her cheek, and—lying as she was, on her stomach, her head cradled in her arms—Dally could very vaguely see the outline of a scar that ran from the middle of her upper back, to an area just below her waist. It was the scar a man had given her—one of the many she had acquired growing up on the streets…one of the many that served as a constant reminder to him of what she had been through. He knew, as well as she did, that the night she'd nearly been raped—the night with Mark, wouldn't have been the first time she had been in that type of situation. He knew better than to think that…
Tentatively, he reached out a hand and traced the upraised scar from the very base, all the way down to its end. He felt the girl stir at his movements, back arching towards his touch, and conceded her gentle, winding stroked up and down her nude spine. He liked touching her. It made him feel…fulfilled…and—ironically enough—it fed his ego to no end.
Laine stirred, and for a moment, Dally wagered whether or not to pull away. In the end, he lifted his had only a few centimeters from her body before she rolled herself towards him. Pale blue eyes lazily blinked open. From behind a fringe of wheat-blond hair, two languid eyes locked onto Dallas' own blue orbs. "Mornin'"
Smirking a bit, Dally let his fingertips sink into her thick hair, and mussed it up slightly. "Hey, doll."
Laine snuggled into the young man, taking in a sharp breath as she did so…drawing in his essence…memorizing his scent. She wrapped her arms about his naked torso, burying her face in his chest, and pressed a soft kiss to his collarbone. "You're warm."
Dally raised a pale eyebrow. "I'm not warm. You're just cold."
The young man used his fingertips to stroke tiny circles on Laine's left shoulder. "You always get cold when you sleep like that."
Laine's cheeks colored slightly, "I only get cold if you move."
Dallas grinned and pulled the young woman closer to him, savoring the feel of her skin against him as he did so, and later shifted so that she lay perfectly atop him, her long hair falling like a canopy about them. In that position, her chest brushing against his, legs splayed and intertwined, the two remained for a long time. Laine pressed her cheek against the boy's chest, and contentedly listened to the steady beating of his heart. "You're awfully heavy, doll."
"Hmm…" Laine's fingertips disappeared in the thick mass of Dally's hair. "You ain't really care, Dallas."
"Yeah, I do—You'll brea—" Laine made a point of shifting purposely over the young man, smiling inwardly when his words faded into a disgruntled groan.
Dally said nothing, waiting instead for the girl to cease her teasing movements, and then used the opportunity to pin her down against the mattress. Holding her carefully in place, he buried his lips in her neck, kissing, nipping, suckling. He released her hands as she began to squirm, careful always to give her enough room to escape…because he didn't want to force her into anything—never force her…
"You're heavier…" the words were whispered—breathless, and spoken in conjunction with palms pressed evenly against a well-developed chest. Laine arched her back to allow Dally's arms to wrap about her. She closed her eyes.
"I don't…" Dallas paused as Laine nipped his shoulder slightly, "I ain't puttin' all my weight on you…"
Laine winced as Dally readjusted himself atop her, using his elbows to prop himself up, and accidentally pulled on her hair. "Sorry, doll…"
"…Dal…just—"
Dallas, hovering just a few inches above the young girl, descended upon her at the silent request. And…rather softly, "I love you…"
And, just as quietly, eyes closed and cheeks flushed, the words were echoed, "I love you, too."
( * * * )
~Finito
*sigh* After nearly two years, Survival has come to an end…I admit, not the sauciest or liveliest ending
but I hope you guys liked it nonetheless. Keep a lookout for my other stories!
~The Weaver Atropos~
Note: Thanks to all those who reviewed, most notably zevie, Modest Vanity, DallysGirl4Life, and MoonMyst. Thanks for all your positive comments!!
