Just a quick warning that this chapter is M rated! M!
Also, thank you to Alexa Twitch, your reviews are always welcome, thanks also go to Hawk's-GaL4077
The anniversary of their death loomed close on the horizon, a black date in her heart.
Some days were much easier to bare, especially when the sun shone and she could sit out on the porch, book in hand, ready to read herself into a day dream. But days like this were soul destroying. The final proceeding letters for her inheritance sat spread out on the table, lists of sums and details of the estate in Italy blurring before her eyes. Everything her family owned reduced to a thin stack of paper, clean and impersonal in the harsh light of the overhead lamp. She gathered them up, stacking them and turning them face down. It was as though the finality of the words written on the page brought it all to an end, that the world could forget about them now.
She found him standing in the porch doorway, his foot keeping the screen door open as he looked up at the stars. She knew it was early, she usually only ever went to him in the middle of the night when the cold expanse of her bed became to much for her to bare, needing him to fill the space in her bed and in her heart.
She knew this night was somehow different, could see it from the look in his eyes as he gazed down at her, his hand holding hers gently, his thumb rubbing a maddening circle on her wrist. She couldn't deny the faint thrill that ran through her, couldn't help but realise that most nights now it wasn't anything to do with her parents death that made her go to him, remembering with a clarity the first time she realised that she fit perfectly against him.
She pressed her face against his shoulder, standing with him for just a moment as she questioned her morals, any reasonable argument fleeting and cast away by the gentle press of his hand against her back, holding her like a fragile bird in the circle of his arm.
She swallowed roughly, stepping back and starting for her room, her invitation unsaid but heavily implied. The tension thickening the air between them as he followed her.
She never turned the light on in her room, hating the unnatural glow, preferring instead to let the pale cast of the moon to shine its dismal pallor through her window, turning the world black and white, light and shadow. It was how she saw them, light and dark, her skin pale in the night as she pulled off her shirt, eyes bright as she pulled him close, her fingers curling into the soft wool of his sweater, wanting to rip it from his body, needing to see him.
Maybe he could read her better than she could read him, or maybe she was just very transparent, because no sooner had she thought it did he grip the hem, pulling it up and over his head in one smooth motion, leaving him open to her gaze, pale and moonlit just as she was. His eyes were dark, unreadable despite the glitter of the night shining in them, something flashing within their depths as she placed her shaking hand on his chest, feeling the unreal heat of his skin beneath her touch as he covered her hand with his.
"What is it you want?" His voice was low and quiet in the dark.
She looked up at him, feeling the faint vibration of restraint of his body under her hand. "I want to feel alive again." She breathed, her lips trembling as she spoke, not quite believing that she had dared let it come to this. She thought she saw him flinch, something that spoke of pain flashing briefly in his eyes as he breathed unsteadily and she was struck with a sudden sense of fragility in the way his shoulders dropped for just a moment.
He hesitated, only for a second, but it was enough for her to think he was going to say no, until he looked at her with the softest, faintest of smiles, his hands warm as he held her face, the gentle reserve of his touch belaying his strength. Her breath shook as he pulled her closer, holding her softly, calming her even as her heart raced, "Are you sure?" the warmth of his breath tumbling over her lips as she closed her eyes.
Every cell in her body reaching out for him, "Yes." A bright pulse of light behind her eyes when he kissed her, his lips soft against hers, that first sweet, tremulous brush melting her heart, so gentle and kind, banishing every dark thought she'd ever had.
Her hands shook as she touched him, fleeting nervous touches that lighted like butterfly kisses as she let her hands travel over his chest, trembling as she reached up, sliding into his hair, pulling it away from his face as he kissed her, his hands low against her back, pressing them close so that she could feel a fire in her nerves everywhere they touched. She gasped at the unadulterated jolt of arousal that pooled tight and dark in her stomach, her lips parting beneath his tongue, giving herself over to him, letting him chase away the dark.
The sheets were cool against her back as he lay her down, the faint shiver they caused soothed by the heat of his hands, smoothing over her skin in a slow and maddening procession, his mouth hot against her neck as she pressed her head back into the pillows, his hands winding into her hair, making her arch up against the solid weight of his body as he lay against her.
She breathed his name, gasping as his teeth grazed along her collarbone, her hands on his back, feeling the muscle move like steel beneath his skin, hot even beneath her fevered touch. She let her eyes slip close, losing herself in the undeniable control he had over her, making her body quiver and shake with the lightest of touches, his fingers dancing over her skin, sliding like silk beneath the lace of her camisole, his eyes on her face, watching every flicker of pleasure that made her sigh, tugging her lip between her teeth as his hand smoothed over her stomach, soft and warm.
She felt her breathing hitch, her eyes suddenly open in the dark as she stared up at him, her hands frozen where they had tightened in his hair. His hand stilled, thumb trailing a delicious path over the soft skin just beneath her breast, she could tell by the look in his eyes that he wondered if he had done something wrong. "I…" She licked her dry lips, swallowing as she doubted whether she should say anything. She reached up, tucking his hair behind his ear and letting the moon shine on his face as he looked down at her, such trust and acceptance written plainly on his face. "I've never done this before." She admitted quietly, her face flaming in the dark, waiting and watching him with a terrified apprehension and embarrassment.
She thought for a moment that he was pulling away, the minute space he put between them felt like miles until he shifted, holding his hand to her face, his thumb drifting over the corner of her lips. He breathed softly, hesitant as he let his shadowed gaze flicker over her face. "We don't have to do this." He whispered quietly.
"I want to…." She muttered softly, hoping he could see the truth in her eyes. "I just thought I should…tell you."
"Meg…"
"Please." She ran her fingertips over his cheek, catching on the sharp lines of his scars, she smiled up at him tremulously. "Please?"
He sighed softly, dropping his forehead to rest on hers so that when he spoke the words fell against her lips. "I don't want to hurt you."
"I trust you." she breathed softly, closing her eyes, wanting to make him believe.
She kissed him when she thought he was about to argue, silencing his doubts and pouring out her need and desperation to have him hold her, for him to tip her head back, his hands in her hair, mouth open and gasping against her neck as he took her.
His hands grew bolder, his touch firmer as he pulled at the thin cotton that hid her from his hungry stare, his hand hot on the curve of her back as she shrugged it off, his mouth joining the paths his fingers made as he traced the lines and curves of her body, tasting every available inch.
She should have known it would be this way with him, temptation and fire in every touch, his fingers burning her as she held his head to her chest, pressing up into his hot kisses, her whispered pleas answered with gentle bites, grazing her skin and making her moan quietly, his hand slipping down, ignoring the barrier of her old gym shorts as he pushed his hand down between her legs, finding her hot and wet under his touch, covering her surprised cry with his mouth as he worked her with an expertise she would never ask how he learned. She whimpered, her hands shaking as she tried to hold him, but she was useless under his skilled touch, reduced to repeating his name, over and over, feeling the way he smiled against her lips as he drove her higher and higher, closer to the edge.
She hissed as he pressed a finger into her, her eyes closed as he hushed her, kissing her cheek, her eyes, everywhere he could reach, distracting her as he added a second, releasing a full throated moan as he pressed against something inside her that made the very stars themselves explode behind her eyes. She breathed his name, begging for more, her body leaning into him, making it easier for him to draw the last of her clothing down over her hips, his fingers lazy as they stroked up the inside of her thigh, leaving her body only to tug at the buttons of his jeans, his blood running hot in his veins as he kissed her, rolling over to cover her body with his.
"Tell me if you want me to stop." He whispered softly in her ear, his voice tight with restraint, his arm pressing down against her shoulders where it lay beneath her neck, his fingers bruising as he gripped her shoulder.
"Please don't." She said breathlessly, her hands smoothing down his sides, their path blocked only where her legs pressed against him, his weight cradled between them, his body pressing down against her with a glorious warmth and solidity, his fingers replacing his lips against hers, his dark stare watching with an avid fascination as she lapped at them with her tongue, teeth scraping over his fingertips, making him shudder and sigh, whispering her name as he held her cheek in his hand.
"Look at me." He met her eyes when she did, his conscience clear when he saw the raw hunger that darkened her unfocused stare, he wouldn't have been able to forgive himself had she looked at all afraid.
But it did hurt, and the pain was almost as good at the pleasure, her nails raking his back as he pressed into her, his face buried in her neck as he swore, low and hot, the words caught in her hair.
She could feel every breath he took, every beat of his heart as he held her tight, his hair warm against her neck, like silk against her skin. She felt the pattern of her name pressed against her pulse, the sound of his breathless whisper not meeting her ears, and then covered by her own cry as he moved against her, her hands gripping convulsively to his shoulders, her nails sharp as she ran her fingers through his hair, holding him tightly and pulling him up so she could kiss him, his lips soft, hot and hungry as they moved over hers.
She felt her heart grow warm, the chilling frost that had settled and encased her thawing beneath the glorious heat of his body, banished by the slick friction and the paths of fire that laced their way around her limbs, her hands trembling until he held them with his own, hot and burning, lacing his fingers between hers and pressing them down into the cool sheets, an anchor in the furious storm of desire and ecstasy.
She was blinded, breathless. His mouth open and hot against her neck, his breaths as hurried as hers as together they chased the light in the dark, her legs crossing behind his back, pulling him closer, deeper, his name on her lips. She could feel it coming closer, building and consuming her until every cell vibrated with pure elation, her body leaving the bed as she arched up into him, into his kiss that captured the cry of her release, his hand gripped tight and possessive on the back of her neck, holding her up and wringing the last rays of blinding desire from her as he followed her over the edge.
Her heart had never beat so fast, her body never felt so alive as she lay beneath him, shivering in the wake of such consuming passion. She felt as though she could fly, weightless, held down only by his undeniable strength and solidity.
They lay in stillness for some time, waiting for hearts to slow, for the fever to leave their skin, marking the slow passage of time with gentle touches, her hands brushing his hair from his face where it was pressed into her shoulder, his breath slow and calm, skating across her skin.
For one blissful moment she had forgotten, the bleak and debilitating chill of everything she had lost denied a place in her mind under his careful, gentle touch. It would be far to cliché to say that in that moment she loved him. He had done for her what no book ever could, had allowed her a chance to escape, to fully abandon herself, giving herself over to a sweet oblivion.
She whispered her thanks in the dark, a soft sigh as he drew away from her, turning and falling onto his back with a quiet sound, his eyes closed, hair in disarray. She looked at him closely, at the high flush of colour on his cheeks, the absence of the hard lines that had pulled his face into an almost constant pained expression. The cold white light of the moon smoothed over his skin, making his scars shine. She reached out, fingers still trembling, tracing them lightly, realising with a jolt that they only made him look more beautiful.
"Why did you stay?" She spoke so quietly, her words barely heard in the silence of her room. He lay still, his eyes closed, the dark fan of his lashes a black smudge on his cheek. She didn't think he'd heard her, or maybe he just didn't want to say. She had often wondered what had made him stay, whether it was some misplaced sense of duty, whether he had once made a promise to her father that should something happen he would take care of her. She was more sure that this was the longest he had ever stayed in one place, she had sensed his discomfort, his denial of wanderlust evident in the way he paced, walking barefoot on the grass outside, his eyes trained on the stars. She waited for him to speak, unsure of what it was exactly that she wanted to hear from his lips, that maybe it was more than duty, more than just the human instinct of taking care of someone who had been hurt. She was suddenly desperate for him to say that it was because he cared for her more than he had said.
He sighed, long and pained, his hand reaching up to still hers where it stroked along his cheek. "Because I know what it's like to be alone."