Author note:

NSFW alert. I hope you like this small interlude. Please drop me a note if you enjoyed. (see the end for more notes)

CH 69-Pure Poetry

After a nice, long walk with Koda they returned to the apartment. The pup had gotten a good run in the fresh air and was worn out. He went and curled up in his kennel. Emma had become chilled on their walk. So, she went into the bedroom to pull on warmer clothes. She called out to Clay, who was flipping through channels on the TV.

"Honey, I want to get my work done today. I'm going to stay in here and try to finish up, if that's okay."

"Of course. Let me know if you need anything."

She had been working for about forty-five minutes before Clay popped his head in to talk to her.

"Hey, Em…are you getting hungry? I can start dinner," he asked as he approached the doorway.

Once he walked in and saw her sitting at the desk, deep in concentration, he had to smile. She had changed into flannel lounge pants, one of his old sweatshirts and some big, fuzzy socks. Her hair was piled on top of her head, held in place by a spare pen she had stuck through the rolled-up mass. She was so freaking cute that he couldn't stand it. She must not have heard him, so he tried again.

"Em? Do you want me to start dinner?"

"Huh?" She didn't take her eyes from the small book she was reading.

He really wanted to know what was so interesting. Walking over to stand behind her chair, he leaned over her shoulder and peered at the volume reading the title printed at the top of the page…

-A Selection of Poems by Pablo Neruda-

Clay had heard of the writer and had even read some of his work. He wondered what the assignment was, and if she needed any help.

"What ya working on?"

"Oh, I'm supposed to pick 3 poems, translate them, and then analyze their meanings."

"How's that going?"

"Slow, to be honest. I think I did a pretty good job translating he first one, but this next one is giving me a little trouble."

He placed a few gentle kisses to her exposed neck before speaking again. "Would you like a little help?"

She turned in place to look at him. "Honestly…yes. You wouldn't mind?"

"I never mind helping you honey."

He sat down on the corner of the bed and she handed over the book and her notebook let him read the poem she was working on and her translation so far. She saw his eyes widen and even glance up to look at her as he read through it again.

"Is there something wrong? Did I really screw it up?"

He swallowed audibly before he answered her. "No. No, you didn't. It's just…have you read all of this?"

"No. Not yet. Why?"

"Well this poem, like a lot of Neruda's other work is very sensual, almost…almost erotic."

"What? You've read his poetry before?"

"A little. I don't remember much. But I do remember that."

The way he was acting and the thickness in the timbre of his voice made the hair on her neck stand up. She could tell he was fighting with some strong urges and emotions.

For some reason she felt as if she needed to speak softly in response. "Can you take a look at what I have so far?"

Clay read the original Spanish verses and then turned his attention to her translation.

-How you must have suffered getting accustomed to me,

My savage, solitary soul,

My name that sends them all running,

So many times, we have seen the morning star burn,

Kissing our eyes, and over our heads the grey light unwinds in turning swirls-

He reached out his hand and laid it high on her thigh, stroking back and forth with his thumb. "I think you captured it really well, even the context. Do you have more?"

"There is another verse of this one that I haven't gotten to yet." She placed her hand on his arm. "Could you help me?"

He glanced up from the book in his grasp and took in her wide eyes and rough breathing. He read the Spanish silently to himself and then raised his eyes to hers as he translated for her.

-My words rained over you, stroking you,

A long time I have loved the sunned, mother-of -pearl

Of your body.

Until I even believe that you own the universe.

I will bring you happy flowers from the mountains,

Bluebells, dark hazels, and rustic baskets of kisses.

I want to do with you what Spring does with the cherry trees-

She wasn't even writing anything down. She couldn't tear her eyes from his lips. His voice had her hypnotized with its sensual rhythm. Her hand crept from his shoulder up his neck into the heavy waves of his hair. She pulled him toward her and devoured his lips. She could feel the vibration of a growl low in his throat. His hand slid up her thigh to the crease where her leg met her torso. Shifting his fingers slightly, and just ghosted over her center.

"Mmmm…Em. What's the next poem?" He forced himself away from her sweet lips and waited to recite the next passages to her.

Her pupils were blown, and her hair was falling down from atop her head. Even in her comfortable, baggy clothes she drew him like a siren. He watched her lick her lips and try to concentrate on his question. Her brow wrinkled as she forced herself flip the pages of the book to her next selection.

"Here, this is the last one I chose." Her voice was trembling.

Love Sonnet XI

-Tengo hambre do tu boca, de tu voz, de tu pelo

Y por las calles voy sin nutirime, callado

No me sostiene el pan…

He read just a portion to her. "Did you understand that Em?"

Her eyes searched his face and her fingers dug into his shoulder. She had caught most of it. But she wanted to hear him tell her. "Could you tell me?"

Clay took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. "It uh, it talks of his desire for his partner…for his lover."

Her lips parted and she perched on the edge of her chair, waiting. Waiting for him to translate.

"I crave your mouth, your voice, your hair. Silent and starving, I prowl through the streets. Bread does not nourish me."

It was no longer him translating someone else's words, it was him speaking to her. It was him telling her how he felt, how he desired her…needed her… loved her. He stood and laid the book back on the desk. Hovering over her he held out his hand to help her stand. His arms went around her in a firm embrace. He pulled the pen from her hair and freed the rest of her tresses, using his fingers to smooth them down around her shoulders.

Dipping his head his lips were next to her ear as he rasped, "You're so beautiful Emmie."

Her breath hitched as his words tickled her ear. She felt his lips press at the junction of her neck and jaw, just below her lobe. His sucking kisses trailed to her neck and down to the base where he licked at the notch above her sternum.

He helped her remove her shirt and pants. Leaving her in a lacy, pale pink bralette and tiny white panties. Her skin was luminous, and he wanted to touch and taste her everywhere. She was trembling now. Holding onto him to keep herself standing.

"Clay, please" she nearly begged him.

He kissed her then, feasting on her lips and tongue. Turning them, he pressed her back onto the mattress. Emma's hands worked desperately to pull off his shirt and to get him out of his pants. He laid next to her, fondling her breasts while his tongue traced a path across her collar bone.

"Ahhh… babe," she moaned as she rubbed herself against him.

She needed to take off the rest of her clothes. She needed to feel his skin on hers, everywhere. Emma propped herself up and pulled her bralette off. Clay hooked his thumbs in the waistband of her panties and slid them down her legs until she could kick them off. His eyes skimmed over her, taking in her flawless body. He reached out reverently to touch her. Sweeping his fingertips softly over her, mapping her curves. Everywhere he touched, her skin flushed pink, reacting to the current passing between them.

Emma captured his lips and slid her palms down his torso. She could feel his strength and desire heavy against her abdomen. She was hungry for him, greedy for the taste of him. She slipped free of his embrace and settled between his legs. Clay let out an emphatic groan as her lips closed around him and her hand teased his sac.

"Oh my God, Emma! Mmmm…baby"

He twitched against her tongue as he wove his fingers through that golden hair. She took him as deeply as she could and sucked until he saw stars. He was so close to breaking, losing himself to the sensation of her hot mouth surrounding him. He clamped down on himself and grabbed desperately at her shoulders, trying to pull her back up next to him. He didn't want this to be over so soon.

She complied and slithered back up to lay against him. He rolled her on top of him.

"I want to see you Em."

He nudged up against her entrance, sliding himself against her clit. She shuddered and flexed her fingers into his pecs. Clay repeated his motions, eliciting a strangled moan from her.

"I need you Clay. I want to feel you."

At this request he thrust himself into her heat and then let her be in control. She rode him slow and easy. Rolling her hips at a lazy pace, etching each sensation into her memory. He brought her down to his mouth, teasing her nipples to dusky, diamond tips.

Neither was just chasing release, they were trying to consume one another, trying to become one. Their bodies, slick and overheated with their efforts melded together. When Clay felt he could no longer hold off his impending orgasm, he pressed her hips down with more force, grinding against her sensitive bundle of nerves.

Trembling with the overwhelming sensations, Emma cried out.

"God…. God! Claaaayyyy!"

Assured that she had reached her peak, he allowed himself to follow, filling her with his pleasure.

Emma collapsed next to him, peppering his chest and neck with kisses. He pulled her tightly against his side and buried his face in her hair, breathing her in. Just like the verses they had read together, bread may feed their bodies, but making love to each other sustained their souls.

*Neruda poems referenced: "Everyday you Play" & Love Sonnet XI (I apologize for any errors in translation)