Past Times
By: Miss Nightshade
Disclaimer: Same as before. Me no own Pitch Black. How many times do I have to say this crap?
Chapter Two: A Different Kind of Love
Richard B. Riddick sat awake. His grey eyes glowed eerily in the darkness of the nearly silent room. "Oh Carolyn-" He murmured more to himself than to the pretty blonde woman sleeping beside him in the disheveled bed. "What happened to you?" His voice had lost that honeyed glass edge that among other, more frightening things, he was known for.
His long fingers traced the stretched jagged scars that lanced across her sides and belly. They were pale and smooth from years of healing, but he could still remember the look she'd given him in the moments they'd been put there. It said 'save me'. Save me? The idea of looking out for someone else other than himself had seemed more alien to him than the hideous creatures that had killed most of the crew. But as he'd looked at her, this woman who intrigued and fascinated him, Carolyn Fry, he wanted more than anything to have the strength to pull her back. Hold her to his chest and feel her heart beating wildly with adrenaline, beating against his own. In that one expression of terror masking her delicate features, he found something to love. Something to want to feel for, to protect before himself. And it was the strangest thing he'd ever known.
She was breathing softly, her pale hair looked almost white in the dim room. It had grown longer, he noticed, since he'd last seen her. Not much, but longer. A feathery lock fell across her forehead when she rolled over, curving her body against his. He wondered briefly if he should brush it aside. But the sudden rush of tenderness surprised and annoyed him, so he sat there, staring at her.
She was a small woman, and he hadn't been gentle that night, then again, neither had she. When he'd bitten her, she'd bitten back, her sharp incisors digging into the flesh of his neck. It was an odd experience, being equaled in everything you did. And that's exactly what she had pulled off. He was impressed. And for the hundredth time that hour he congratulated himself on his choice of women. She was something to hold out for. Even in those years he'd believed her dead he'd held out. Wouldn't touch another woman, not once. Always found himself comparing them to her. Never had they even come close. No one could hold a candle to the woman who'd attacked him on a barren planet occupied by hungry aliens that thrived in darkness at night while rain came pouring down on them.
He could feel her beneath him again, her skin slick with water and her clothes sticking to every asset she had, enticing him without her own knowledge. It had been almost too much to bear as she screamed her defiance, squirming against his body, not caring if he could see her fear or arousal. She was raw, a virgin sacrifice to the Horned One, honesty incarnate. Riddick had nearly ripped her clothes from her body and gorged himself on her needy mouth. It certainly would have been a night to remember. But he'd let her go, let her go back and face her worst fears. And he had come along for the ride. What a ride it was.
A small sound broke him from his thoughts and a slender leg was thrown carelessly over his. He turned shined eyes onto Carolyn; her slim form was leaning up against his arm. If he wanted to he could have broken her neck in a second. That was what stopped him.
Through most of his years, Riddick was prey to various kinds of fearful and threatening things; to protect himself against the terrors of the life he lead his body became a weapon, his heart became ice, and his mind became a prison. It was a frightful combination and the only one he knew to work incredibly well. Never, at any moment had anyone ever trusted him. Now, the beautiful ghost of a woman sprawled across him was giving him her complete and total confidence. If he hadn't been in love with her before, he would have fallen entirely right then.
Her hot breath blew over his skin, piquing in him again the sultry violent desire that had subsided only hours ago after their scorching love making. He felt every movement of hers, the vibration of her throat against his side as she murmured softly in sleep, the curl of toes on his, a finger bent lightly, scraping the nail gently on his flesh. He had never known such an intense need as this.
Riddick rolled her onto her back, positioning himself atop her carefully. "Carolyn- " He called faintly, blowing the hair by her ear. "Come on, baby, wake up time." Her blue eyes fluttered for a moment before blinking open and settling on his shadow-darkened face.
"Huh? What? What's wrong?" She asked, her voice cracking slightly from disuse. The woman raised one thin hand to his shoulder, her fingers massaging the muscle subtly. He almost didn't notice, it was such a calm, comfortable gesture, as if she had been waking up to him for years.
He slammed his mouth to hers, teeth digging into his skin, forcing his tongue between her lips, unwilling to let gentleness take over his passion. Hands traced the boyish curves of her body, exploring the length of soft arms and legs, fingers tangling in hair. "Oh yes-" He moaned, thankful that their clothes had been taken care of before and there was nothing to rip through or obstruct his way.
Carolyn didn't seem surprised by the sudden yearning for their bodies to be joined once more, and she gave herself up to him totally, her head thrown back in ecstasy. Screams of pleasure tore from her throat in torrents as the waves rolled through her, it wasn't until they were lying back on the bed, the sheets damp from sweat pressing against their burning skin that she stopped. "Who are you?" She asked quietly in the darkness, staring into his glowing eyes.
"Riddick." He stated simply, branding her neck with his smoldering mouth. "You know that." She stopped moving, stopped breathing it seemed, and he looked up into her face in carefully concealed puzzlement. "Carolyn. You know." His voice wasn't inquisitive. She shook her head no.
"I don't remember." It was a strained reply and she looked as if she would cry as she said the words. "I don't remember anything." His face dropped and his hands ceased their steady rhythm along her spine.
"You don't remember?" The gravel in his throat was louder than the satin this time. Anger boiled up inside of his mind, red streaking across his vision. "You don't remember?!" He grabbed her wrist and forced her into a sitting position. The word 'bitch' screamed through his brain, trying to force it's way down his tongue. He wanted to hate her. Wanted to. But couldn't.
"My memory is gone. The doctors said it was severe amnesia." She protested, wanting to lighten the darkness masking his face. "I don't know anything about my life from before." His grip loosened and his eyes focused on the sheets in her lap. Carolyn watched his shoulders heave up and down and pain clutched her heart. "I get flashes now and then. When a situation is similar." She trailed off; their breathing was the only noise in the room.
"You said my name." He murmured softly, tilting his chin back up to look into her face. Hope was painted across his strongly European features.
"I did." She confirmed with equal dimness in tone, "Riddick." He released her wrist altogether and she lay back down on the pillow beneath her, reaching over instinctively to rub the bruised skin. "Richard B. Riddick."
He collapsed on top of her, rolling off slowly, his head resting on the softness of her chest. "Yes." The blonde woman touched his cheek gently and he succumbed to the affection in spite of himself.
"I remembered your name, Richard." But she didn't remember him, not really, or else she would have remembered also that nobody called him Richard. Because he killed them if they did. All things concerned, it seemed very fair to him.
But he grinned, his eyes closed, his body encircled in the slender arms of the woman he'd thought dead and mourned in his own way for years. "Yes." He felt her stretch her arm down and grasp his hand, her slim fingers entwining with his. Strangely, his fingers clasped hers back tightly, as if afraid to let her go again.
A deep-seated protective and possessive instinct swam through his mind and he seized her wrist once gain. "Carolyn." Riddick's voice was soft, soft for being Riddick's voice that is. "You're mine you know." It wasn't a question, not really. He didn't need an answer, because the answer was already there, dancing before his terminally luminescent eyes, like soft cotton in the wind.
Her only reply was a soft grunt of acceptance, then he felt her relax once more, claimed by sleep. "Yes, Carolyn-" A smile grazed his lips. "You know you're mine." He turned onto his side smoothly, touching sweaty fingertips to her pale cheek. "You know."
Carolyn awoke the next morning to soft breathing beside her, a muscular form lay comfortably draped over her body in unperturbed slumber. Thoughts of last night's heated love-making whizzed across her mind and she grinned despite herself.
Slipping gently from beneath the heavy figure, she placed her feet on the floor and stretched. The thin blonde woman's reflection gazed back at her from the full-length mirror attached to her closet door, small purple and red marks were scattered across her flesh like freckles from where Riddick's mouth sought to attach itself.
She touched one just below her navel, a thoughtful smile pulling the corners of her mouth up. "Do you know what you've done?" She asked aloud, her voice all but a whisper, "Do you know who he really is? Do you know who you really are for that matter?" Carolyn scowled at her twin in the glass and raked a hand through her unruly tresses. "I don't care." She growled, tugging the door open and surveying the line of clothes within.
She seized a simple black skirt and greyish-blue tank top, then tiptoed quietly into the bathroom. The water in the shower felt wonderful as it dripped down her body, but somehow, she wished she could just stay how she was. Untouched by anything but him, his scent, his hands, his lips, all branded her skin boldly. Her blue eyes closed in rapture, memories of how perfectly they'd fit together making her long to crawl back in beside him.
She shook her head and washed the suds from her hair, stepping out of the shower and pulling a towel around herself. "How can I love you? I can't." Could she? Was it a question of love? Or was it simple attraction? Either way, Carolyn knew she couldn't walk away from this. From him. She growled again, hating herself for thinking so much and reached for the comb lying beside the sink.
The teeth yanked and ripped roughly through her hair in hurried anger making more knots than freeing them. "Need some help?" She thought she might faint, Riddick stood calmly, leaning on the doorpost, a half-grin mocking and adoring her.
He didn't bother waiting for her reply, simply took her hold of her shoulders and turned her around. Never in her life had she thought anything like having your hair combed could feel so sensual. He drew it down again and again, her pale locks springing up softly as they dried beneath the comb. It was starting to feel too good, them being together, too good to be a lasting thing, and it had only been one night so far. She didn't want to imagine what it'd be like if he stayed for even a week, the power he'd have over her.
Carolyn let out a breath she'd been holding for far too long and reached up to stay his hand. Surprisingly, he stopped at the touch of her fingers, opting instead to lower his mouth to her shoulder. The wet tip of a tongue burning a trail to her ear. "What's wrong, baby?" He asked, placing the comb carefully back on the counter. His breath was hot against her flesh and she felt a tingle go sliding sneakily down her spine. Or was that his hands. Oh Lord, it was.
His palm pressed flat against her lower back, his other hand slipping the towel slowly from her damp form. She hadn't realised until then that he was still nude, her back pressed hard against his chest. The blonde haired woman gulped, trying to steady her breathing, which came in fast little pants. "I've got to go-" She tried to murmur, her mouth dry and wet at the same time. He turned her again, this time pushing her backwards and lifting her onto the sink.
"No you don't." He said, catching her wrists in one hand and pulling them up above her head. The cold glass of the mirror on the medicine cabinet sent a shiver through her in contrast to the heat sitting like a furnace between their two bodies.
She nodded mutely. "Yes, yes I do-I-oh, fuck-" He traced a hand up her thigh, dipping down to touch the spot she wanted him to caress most. "Richard-" He was still smirking, an eyebrow raised as he feigned innocence.
"Yes? What is it?" He moved closer, latching her legs around his waist, his fingers stroking over her clitoris gently. Carolyn tossed her head back, trying to raise her hips up to his touch.
"Please-" She moaned, swallowing rapidly. "Please, I need-I need-" He wouldn't give. Simply stood there, teasing, smiling, killing.
"You need?" she wanted to rip his throat out with her teeth. "Tell me."
"I need you to touch me! Right there, oh please, right there!" She cried, tears beginning to form in her eyes as she yearned. She was weak, too weak to wait.
His fore and middlefingers plunged deep inside her, the thumb still fondling her bud softly. "That's all you had to say."
Author's Note: I hope you liked it. Sorry it took so long. More updates soon.
-Miss Nightshade
By: Miss Nightshade
Disclaimer: Same as before. Me no own Pitch Black. How many times do I have to say this crap?
Chapter Two: A Different Kind of Love
Richard B. Riddick sat awake. His grey eyes glowed eerily in the darkness of the nearly silent room. "Oh Carolyn-" He murmured more to himself than to the pretty blonde woman sleeping beside him in the disheveled bed. "What happened to you?" His voice had lost that honeyed glass edge that among other, more frightening things, he was known for.
His long fingers traced the stretched jagged scars that lanced across her sides and belly. They were pale and smooth from years of healing, but he could still remember the look she'd given him in the moments they'd been put there. It said 'save me'. Save me? The idea of looking out for someone else other than himself had seemed more alien to him than the hideous creatures that had killed most of the crew. But as he'd looked at her, this woman who intrigued and fascinated him, Carolyn Fry, he wanted more than anything to have the strength to pull her back. Hold her to his chest and feel her heart beating wildly with adrenaline, beating against his own. In that one expression of terror masking her delicate features, he found something to love. Something to want to feel for, to protect before himself. And it was the strangest thing he'd ever known.
She was breathing softly, her pale hair looked almost white in the dim room. It had grown longer, he noticed, since he'd last seen her. Not much, but longer. A feathery lock fell across her forehead when she rolled over, curving her body against his. He wondered briefly if he should brush it aside. But the sudden rush of tenderness surprised and annoyed him, so he sat there, staring at her.
She was a small woman, and he hadn't been gentle that night, then again, neither had she. When he'd bitten her, she'd bitten back, her sharp incisors digging into the flesh of his neck. It was an odd experience, being equaled in everything you did. And that's exactly what she had pulled off. He was impressed. And for the hundredth time that hour he congratulated himself on his choice of women. She was something to hold out for. Even in those years he'd believed her dead he'd held out. Wouldn't touch another woman, not once. Always found himself comparing them to her. Never had they even come close. No one could hold a candle to the woman who'd attacked him on a barren planet occupied by hungry aliens that thrived in darkness at night while rain came pouring down on them.
He could feel her beneath him again, her skin slick with water and her clothes sticking to every asset she had, enticing him without her own knowledge. It had been almost too much to bear as she screamed her defiance, squirming against his body, not caring if he could see her fear or arousal. She was raw, a virgin sacrifice to the Horned One, honesty incarnate. Riddick had nearly ripped her clothes from her body and gorged himself on her needy mouth. It certainly would have been a night to remember. But he'd let her go, let her go back and face her worst fears. And he had come along for the ride. What a ride it was.
A small sound broke him from his thoughts and a slender leg was thrown carelessly over his. He turned shined eyes onto Carolyn; her slim form was leaning up against his arm. If he wanted to he could have broken her neck in a second. That was what stopped him.
Through most of his years, Riddick was prey to various kinds of fearful and threatening things; to protect himself against the terrors of the life he lead his body became a weapon, his heart became ice, and his mind became a prison. It was a frightful combination and the only one he knew to work incredibly well. Never, at any moment had anyone ever trusted him. Now, the beautiful ghost of a woman sprawled across him was giving him her complete and total confidence. If he hadn't been in love with her before, he would have fallen entirely right then.
Her hot breath blew over his skin, piquing in him again the sultry violent desire that had subsided only hours ago after their scorching love making. He felt every movement of hers, the vibration of her throat against his side as she murmured softly in sleep, the curl of toes on his, a finger bent lightly, scraping the nail gently on his flesh. He had never known such an intense need as this.
Riddick rolled her onto her back, positioning himself atop her carefully. "Carolyn- " He called faintly, blowing the hair by her ear. "Come on, baby, wake up time." Her blue eyes fluttered for a moment before blinking open and settling on his shadow-darkened face.
"Huh? What? What's wrong?" She asked, her voice cracking slightly from disuse. The woman raised one thin hand to his shoulder, her fingers massaging the muscle subtly. He almost didn't notice, it was such a calm, comfortable gesture, as if she had been waking up to him for years.
He slammed his mouth to hers, teeth digging into his skin, forcing his tongue between her lips, unwilling to let gentleness take over his passion. Hands traced the boyish curves of her body, exploring the length of soft arms and legs, fingers tangling in hair. "Oh yes-" He moaned, thankful that their clothes had been taken care of before and there was nothing to rip through or obstruct his way.
Carolyn didn't seem surprised by the sudden yearning for their bodies to be joined once more, and she gave herself up to him totally, her head thrown back in ecstasy. Screams of pleasure tore from her throat in torrents as the waves rolled through her, it wasn't until they were lying back on the bed, the sheets damp from sweat pressing against their burning skin that she stopped. "Who are you?" She asked quietly in the darkness, staring into his glowing eyes.
"Riddick." He stated simply, branding her neck with his smoldering mouth. "You know that." She stopped moving, stopped breathing it seemed, and he looked up into her face in carefully concealed puzzlement. "Carolyn. You know." His voice wasn't inquisitive. She shook her head no.
"I don't remember." It was a strained reply and she looked as if she would cry as she said the words. "I don't remember anything." His face dropped and his hands ceased their steady rhythm along her spine.
"You don't remember?" The gravel in his throat was louder than the satin this time. Anger boiled up inside of his mind, red streaking across his vision. "You don't remember?!" He grabbed her wrist and forced her into a sitting position. The word 'bitch' screamed through his brain, trying to force it's way down his tongue. He wanted to hate her. Wanted to. But couldn't.
"My memory is gone. The doctors said it was severe amnesia." She protested, wanting to lighten the darkness masking his face. "I don't know anything about my life from before." His grip loosened and his eyes focused on the sheets in her lap. Carolyn watched his shoulders heave up and down and pain clutched her heart. "I get flashes now and then. When a situation is similar." She trailed off; their breathing was the only noise in the room.
"You said my name." He murmured softly, tilting his chin back up to look into her face. Hope was painted across his strongly European features.
"I did." She confirmed with equal dimness in tone, "Riddick." He released her wrist altogether and she lay back down on the pillow beneath her, reaching over instinctively to rub the bruised skin. "Richard B. Riddick."
He collapsed on top of her, rolling off slowly, his head resting on the softness of her chest. "Yes." The blonde woman touched his cheek gently and he succumbed to the affection in spite of himself.
"I remembered your name, Richard." But she didn't remember him, not really, or else she would have remembered also that nobody called him Richard. Because he killed them if they did. All things concerned, it seemed very fair to him.
But he grinned, his eyes closed, his body encircled in the slender arms of the woman he'd thought dead and mourned in his own way for years. "Yes." He felt her stretch her arm down and grasp his hand, her slim fingers entwining with his. Strangely, his fingers clasped hers back tightly, as if afraid to let her go again.
A deep-seated protective and possessive instinct swam through his mind and he seized her wrist once gain. "Carolyn." Riddick's voice was soft, soft for being Riddick's voice that is. "You're mine you know." It wasn't a question, not really. He didn't need an answer, because the answer was already there, dancing before his terminally luminescent eyes, like soft cotton in the wind.
Her only reply was a soft grunt of acceptance, then he felt her relax once more, claimed by sleep. "Yes, Carolyn-" A smile grazed his lips. "You know you're mine." He turned onto his side smoothly, touching sweaty fingertips to her pale cheek. "You know."
Carolyn awoke the next morning to soft breathing beside her, a muscular form lay comfortably draped over her body in unperturbed slumber. Thoughts of last night's heated love-making whizzed across her mind and she grinned despite herself.
Slipping gently from beneath the heavy figure, she placed her feet on the floor and stretched. The thin blonde woman's reflection gazed back at her from the full-length mirror attached to her closet door, small purple and red marks were scattered across her flesh like freckles from where Riddick's mouth sought to attach itself.
She touched one just below her navel, a thoughtful smile pulling the corners of her mouth up. "Do you know what you've done?" She asked aloud, her voice all but a whisper, "Do you know who he really is? Do you know who you really are for that matter?" Carolyn scowled at her twin in the glass and raked a hand through her unruly tresses. "I don't care." She growled, tugging the door open and surveying the line of clothes within.
She seized a simple black skirt and greyish-blue tank top, then tiptoed quietly into the bathroom. The water in the shower felt wonderful as it dripped down her body, but somehow, she wished she could just stay how she was. Untouched by anything but him, his scent, his hands, his lips, all branded her skin boldly. Her blue eyes closed in rapture, memories of how perfectly they'd fit together making her long to crawl back in beside him.
She shook her head and washed the suds from her hair, stepping out of the shower and pulling a towel around herself. "How can I love you? I can't." Could she? Was it a question of love? Or was it simple attraction? Either way, Carolyn knew she couldn't walk away from this. From him. She growled again, hating herself for thinking so much and reached for the comb lying beside the sink.
The teeth yanked and ripped roughly through her hair in hurried anger making more knots than freeing them. "Need some help?" She thought she might faint, Riddick stood calmly, leaning on the doorpost, a half-grin mocking and adoring her.
He didn't bother waiting for her reply, simply took her hold of her shoulders and turned her around. Never in her life had she thought anything like having your hair combed could feel so sensual. He drew it down again and again, her pale locks springing up softly as they dried beneath the comb. It was starting to feel too good, them being together, too good to be a lasting thing, and it had only been one night so far. She didn't want to imagine what it'd be like if he stayed for even a week, the power he'd have over her.
Carolyn let out a breath she'd been holding for far too long and reached up to stay his hand. Surprisingly, he stopped at the touch of her fingers, opting instead to lower his mouth to her shoulder. The wet tip of a tongue burning a trail to her ear. "What's wrong, baby?" He asked, placing the comb carefully back on the counter. His breath was hot against her flesh and she felt a tingle go sliding sneakily down her spine. Or was that his hands. Oh Lord, it was.
His palm pressed flat against her lower back, his other hand slipping the towel slowly from her damp form. She hadn't realised until then that he was still nude, her back pressed hard against his chest. The blonde haired woman gulped, trying to steady her breathing, which came in fast little pants. "I've got to go-" She tried to murmur, her mouth dry and wet at the same time. He turned her again, this time pushing her backwards and lifting her onto the sink.
"No you don't." He said, catching her wrists in one hand and pulling them up above her head. The cold glass of the mirror on the medicine cabinet sent a shiver through her in contrast to the heat sitting like a furnace between their two bodies.
She nodded mutely. "Yes, yes I do-I-oh, fuck-" He traced a hand up her thigh, dipping down to touch the spot she wanted him to caress most. "Richard-" He was still smirking, an eyebrow raised as he feigned innocence.
"Yes? What is it?" He moved closer, latching her legs around his waist, his fingers stroking over her clitoris gently. Carolyn tossed her head back, trying to raise her hips up to his touch.
"Please-" She moaned, swallowing rapidly. "Please, I need-I need-" He wouldn't give. Simply stood there, teasing, smiling, killing.
"You need?" she wanted to rip his throat out with her teeth. "Tell me."
"I need you to touch me! Right there, oh please, right there!" She cried, tears beginning to form in her eyes as she yearned. She was weak, too weak to wait.
His fore and middlefingers plunged deep inside her, the thumb still fondling her bud softly. "That's all you had to say."
Author's Note: I hope you liked it. Sorry it took so long. More updates soon.
-Miss Nightshade