Untitled

By: Magick

Pairing: Lust/Scar

Warnings: Het and Angst

It was hard for him to remember that she wasn't human when she was splayed out beneath him. Her body was pliant and yielding, her hips thrashing, hands shaking. Her stomach would clench and her legs would wrap around him as he cupped her breast. Her head fell back against the pillow as sharp teeth nibbled along her neck and collarbone. She would moan and arch until he was sure she would shatter with passion.

Then Scar would wonder if she could actually feel him touching her, or if it was all memories of his brother. This thought always struck him while he was fucking her, and in retaliation he'd bite down hard on her shoulder, as if forcing her to feel him. Forcing her to see that he wasn't his kind, gentle brother, but the man that was going to fuck her raw and she was going to like it. He never asked her about it though, he was afraid both answers.

Her body worked like that of a humans—she was warm and wet in all the right places. Scar always marveled at this when he'd plunge into her; she was tighter than any virgin but wetter than anyone experienced could be.

Lust always screamed breathlessly when he entered her and then would wrap her legs tighter about him. Pulling him closer, as if she wanted to feel him deep inside her. Maybe she wanted him in the gaping void where her soul should be.

She moaned in words like 'yes' and 'love', and then 'harder' and 'please'. The words would become more desperate as her body went taut and her nails scraped painfully down his back. Then her body would pulse and suck him in and he'd groan and spill himself deeply inside of her. It didn't matter; it wasn't as if she could bear him a child.

She always cried afterwards. Her memories of his brothers' gentle touch would war with those of Scar's rough ones, and she would fold under the pressure and let the memories tear her apart. He never waited to see how she pulled herself back together; right after his orgasm he stood and left.

His only consolation was that she wasn't human. She looked like the woman he once loved, felt like her and sounded like her, but she was not her. She was nothing. A broken shard of a soul and a few faded memories did not make her human, and neither did a few tears. At least, that's what Scar told himself as he slammed the door behind him.