Summary: Desire. A tale of love, deception and betrayal. Let the Mebony/Ramony battle begin.
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: I own nothing, the Tribe and the characters and the property of Cloud 9 and Mr. Thomas.
Chapter One
I woke up late at night my heart beating so fast that I could hear it pounding in my ears as if I had just run a marathon. I look down to see my bosom heaving partially out of the sensual caress of lust which remained from the dream but also from fear. Fear that I might be discovered.
My throat burntas those familiar knots form due to the perpetual state of nervousness which I now find myself in. It really is quite ridiculous, I am a married woman now, I should be happier than ever however I cannot banish those smouldering eyes from my dreams.
It seems such a long time ago now although in reality it was only a few short hours ago. Before then I had been content with mediocrity, but after only one look into those intense chocolate pools and I knew that this would never be the case again.
The appetite for love which I have always possessed was no longer something that could be satisfied by polite courting rituals or little trinkets. It had been ignited into a ravenous monster which demanded the searing heat of a lover's touch and the desperate desire to be together.
But I know that there is no sense in dwelling on what will never be, instead I turn to look at what I do have, what once made me smile but which now merely disgusts me.
Lying next to me in the king sized bed lays my husband, fast asleep. The pale glow of the moon light gives his pale skin an odd sheer which makes him look like an angel with his dark well kempt hair and lips pouted as if in a kiss.
As I look down on him now, he seems quite harmless, ordinary even. However, sleep hides the monster within him.
He is neither ordinary nor harmless. Once upon a time I thought that he was the truest evil which had ever walked the planet and felt reason to fear him yet something about his power drew me ever closer. I found that despite this, he could be a gentle creature who truly cared for me. What bliss you think, but as always there is more.
Up until the second of our marriage things were perfect yet as the words, "I do", poured from my lips, my world fell around me in ruins and a monster grew inside me.
As I walked down the aisle I could feel something pulling me back, like I was fighting against the current or fate or something stronger. Yet I would not let this stop me as I thought that I wanted to marry, therefore I fought. Oh God, how I wish that I had not.
I finally reached my destination, my fiancés arms, yet I did not feel that I had reached the end of my journey, rather more that I was still searching.
Throughout the service I could feel someone's eyes on me, they were so intense that I feared they would scorch me yet I dare to move to see who it was, until the decision was taken out of my hands.
The seconds that I muttered those fatal two words, his head darted forwards for his lips to caress mine but before he did so I saw the man who had been starring. My eyes locked with his even as I kissed my husband for the first time as his wife.
Those eyes still blaze through me; they are embedded in my mine. I know that I should feel ashamed for feeling this way; however, I ca not help it as he wo not leave my mind.
The gentle whiteness of my husband's skin is gentle and soft; however, it does not have that same ruthless dark tan which the other has got.
Although, my husband's hair is dark it does not have the inky blackness of the man I wish that I had known better.
And though my husband has light hazel eyes which I once though were pretty, they cannot match the gorgeous darkness of those which now haunt my dream.
Although, my husband is by the book perfection, I feel myself searching for something more, something darker, something more dangerous.
"No", I chilled myself inwardly, "I ca not think like this", and so I clench my eyes shut and try to think of something else yet he returns, his face an everlasting reminder of something that I cannot have as the remnants of my dream return.
The imagination is power, it is as if I see him, hear him, smell him fell his kiss.
As passion over takes me, in a needy voice I moan, "Mega", and his voice echoes off the walls.