The flame that used to burn so brightly in Lenneth's eyes, has been dimmed after enduring months at his hands. Dull but not gone, it flickers weakly in her attempts at defiance. To see it sparking, even weak as it is, still sends shivers down Lezard's spine. He's always delighted in the looks she's given him. Always enjoyed how expressive her eyes can be. Even at her most wretched, the fire won't go out completely, Lenneth not yet lost so completely to her despair.
But she is wounded. It shows in her every gaze, the fire flickering behind hurt, lost expressions. She is not the woman she once had been. She is hurt, invisible wounds all over her body, cracking open the armor around her soul. And still she fights, Lezard watching as Lenneth desperately tries to hang on to the pieces that remain of her former self.
It is a struggle, especially when he draws near. Lenneth can only do so much, both her body and soul tired. The resistance she offers him, are feeble at best. And yet she won't allow herself to just give up, as though something inside her would truly die if she went willingly into Lezard's embrace. She makes him work for her pleasure each and every time. An unspoken challenge he is more than ready to win.
Each time he makes her climax, Lezard celebrates that victory. He leaves pieces of himself inside her, on her, reminders of him that she can't ever wash off no matter how often she bathes. He's made it so Lenneth won't ever forget him, or the things he can do to her. The things he continues to do, watching the flames in her eyes flicker in wariness.
He appreciates her caution. They both know why he is here. She just doesn't know how it will start. Or when, Lezard enjoying dragging out the anticipation by waiting. It is an effort to hold himself back. He craves her that strongly. Even after all this time, he hasn't tired even one bit of Lenneth and the pleasures found in her arms. But just as there can be pleasure in the immediate, there can be satisfaction in the wait. And so he talks to her, though the conversation can never fully succeed in distracting him from what he wants.
He studies her as they talk. Lenneth doesn't like his regard, all but fidgeting besides him. No doubt she is wondering just when he will tire of this, and take her. He doesn't fool himself into believing she's looking forward to it. Lenneth just wants it over, wants Lezard to be done with her body so that she can take her leave of him. It bothers him that she would rush this, that she would dismiss the sex and him so quickly.
Lezard can be most cruel. Especially when he is hurt by Lenneth's rejections. He'll drag this out, spend the whole day forcing her to new heights of pleasure. He'll work her body over and over, until she can take no more and even then he won't stop. Lezard himself is near insatiable, an addict whose drug of choice is Lenneth. Daily doses aren't enough, perhaps nothing short of total immersion can do. This need of his grows worse when he is angry, or disappointed with her, Lezard unable to pretend everything is totally perfect between them.
She's still too defiant, still too resistant to the idea of him. No matter how much her body accepts him, Lenneth herself does not. It is frustrating, Lezard pulling her close. Locking his hands on her, hauling her up for his lowering mouth. He knows Lenneth will sense the agitation boiling within him, knows it will make her worry and fear. He doesn't care, kissing her with all the aggression he feels in the moment. She flinches against the bruising force of his lips, trying to withstand the demanding pressures of his mouth. He doesn't soften his kiss, not even when a whimper escapes her. He is punishing in the moment, forcing her to yield to his desires.
He doesn't calm once her mouth is open. Lezard continues that harsh way of kissing, his tongue plundering ruthlessly into her mouth. He knows the velvet confines well, has licked over the surface a thousand times. It is familiar but never boring, Lezard dueling his tongue against Lenneth's. He breathes in her essence, the taste of her kiss strong on his lips.
They'll both be panting by the time Lezard allows the kiss to be broken. He'll pause for a second, lips lingering feather light pressure on her cheek. Listening as Lenneth works to get her breathing under control. But he doesn't want her that collected, wanting instead to see her wild, frenzied and desperate. Lezard wants Lenneth to match him in passion, in need, until her body's burning and begging for his possession.
It never fails to get the fire going within him. Just a taste of her sweet mouth, and already he's half hard. It's the power only Lenneth has over him, Lezard reacting to her in a way he has never with any other woman. Sometimes it makes him angry, even as she inadvertently builds up his desire with her every action. Her trembling makes him shiver and shake in response, his breathing growing harsh, his body coming alive with sensations. It's all he can do not to fall on her like some mindless animal, Lezard fighting for a control that's rapidly slipping through his fingers.
She doesn't try to push him away but neither does Lenneth move closer to him. She is resigned to this happening, and hates it. It shows in her eyes, a look of loathing that seems to beg him to end this already. He is not that kind, responding to her desperation with the desire to torment her all the more. Even as she makes a silent plea, bidding him to hurry, he lingers in one spot. Kissing her again and again, feeling the stiffness of her body start to give way. She never relaxes completely, but neither does she remain as rigid as a corpse.
She forces her every response to be coaxed out of her. Most days Lezard doesn't mind the extra work it takes to hear Lenneth moan. Her pleasured voice is just as pleasing as the rest of her, a song he never grows tired of hearing even as Lezard mourns the fact that she never calls out his name in a moment of passion. Just once he'd like to make her lose control so completely, Lenneth would forget how much she hates him, how much she despise the pleasure she gets from his attention.
Lezard wants Lenneth to give in, to give up everything to him. She never does, not even with the realization of how much easier things would become for her. It is the one resistance he cannot tolerate, the rage born of it making Lezard's hands move. Gripping and tearing, ripping apart the dress Lenneth wears. The flimsy silk rips like it is mere paper, revealing Lenneth's trembling body to him. Her eyes have widened in shock, even Lenneth is taken back by the violence of his actions.
Before she can voice a protest, or ask a question, he is shoving her down to the bed. She sinks into the pillows, bringing up her hands to protectively cover her face. But he does not want to strike her. His hands grasps hold of her wrists, forcing her arms up over her head. Lenneth strains against Lezard's hold, back arching in a provocative manner that she is unaware of. Her chest heaves with her nervous breath, Lenneth fearing what Lezard will do next.
He can't even smile to reassure her. Instead his grip tightens on her wrists, pinning them down against the pillows. She struggles, then gasps, Lezard mouth having claimed hers once more. It's a vicious, brutal kiss, lips and teeth being use to tug and titillate, Lezard stopping short of biting her. Her lips have become swollen from his attention, and he can't resist licking over the bottom swell one more time.
No tears between them, but Lenneth still looks miserable. She doesn't understand this mood of his save to recognize the danger of it. He's sure she's remembering everything Lenneth has ever called him, every name and insult, all things she fears to be the absolute truth. The unpredictability of his mood frighten her perhaps more than the responses her body gives him. Lenneth trembles, but does not look away as Lezard bends over her.
He knows he can hurt her. Hurt her far worse than anything he's ever done. He can make it that her fear is well earned, teach her the difference between being loved by him and being abused. He wonders then if she'd love him, if she'd learn to appreciate all he has been offering. He can make for a powerful enemy, and Lezard tells her that. Demands that she decide if his friendship is the better alternative to suffering.
He'll only wait so long for her answer. Lezard will continue to hold her hands down, using his mouth to trace paths over her skin. Relearning her body as though it is something new to him. His tongue licks up the salty sweetness of her skin, his teeth scrape and leave bite marks. And all the while he waits, aware of Lenneth's gaze as she thinks over his question.
He can see that she's going to deny them, deny him. Lenneth is going to pick suffering over pleasure. It is as frustrating as it is infuriating, Lezard pressing down more firmly on top of her. He doesn't understand her reasoning, doesn't understand why she would willingly choose to continue this dance of misery. Why she can't open herself up and accept all of him.
He wants to scream at her then. To rant and rail like the madman Lenneth accuses him of being. He wants to demand she love him back, the scream building inside his throat. He struggles to control it, pressing furious kisses on her skin. When he thinks he can speak, he does, voice coming out a hoarse rasp. His words are just as demanding as before, Lezard asking Lenneth why she won't hurry and become his.
Lenneth knows what Lezard means by this. Knows that for all he's done to her, the many times he's had her body, he has never claimed her heart. Her eyes flash, the fire that feeds her defiance seeming to blaze all the brighter. Lezard knows whatever she is about to say, it is something he won't like. It makes him desperate to keep the words from being spoken, Lezard sealing his mouth over Lenneth's. Stealing her words and her breath, swallowing down her protests as Lenneth begins a fitful struggle against him.
Her body brushes against his, Lenneth attempting to buck Lezard off her. He only exerts more strength against her, using his weight to keep her beneath him. He keeps on kissing her, listening to the impotent squeals she gives voice to. Feeling her body weaken under his as Lenneth begins to concentrate on gaining enough air to breathe. When she is gasping, panting for breath, he begins speaking to her. He's almost pleading, staring at her as he shifts his grip from her hands to her body.
"If only you'd give up." Lezard says, hands caressing over the sides of her body. They bring up goose bumps in their wake, Lenneth shivering as though cold from his touch. "If only you'd become mine." His strong hands cup and hold her generous sized breasts, thumbs caressing over nipples in a deliberate manner. "I'd protect you." Lezard continues, and hears Lenneth managed a choked out sound. He ignores her attempt at laughter, his grip on her breasts turning harsh. Her pained whimper punctuates his words, Lezard telling Lenneth how he would be gentle with her.
He bends down to place kisses between her breasts, his grip relaxing enough that he is no longer hurting her with his squeezes. "I don't want to hurt you anymore than I already have..." His vision goes dark as Lenneth makes a scoffing sound. She doesn't believe anything he is saying, and that makes him angry. Why can't she understand his sincerity? Why can't she accept what he offers, take the freedoms loving him would give her? Why doesn't she realize he wants so much more than a Lenneth who spreads her legs for him? Why does she still refuse to open up her heart to him? He's tried everything, from pleasure, to fear, to threats and pain. He's missing the obvious, Lenneth suddenly raising up as best he will allow.
She puts her lips to his ear, and even that affects him. He's keenly aware of how Lenneth almost never touches him, her every caress, every kiss one born of his force. He shivers as he feels her warm breath caress over his skin, but her words turn him cold from the inside out.
"The things you ask of me, that you demand of me? Are things that can only be given freely, and only to someone that I LIKE." Abruptly he pushes her back down, her words echoing in his mind. She had spoken in a practical tone, and yet the memory of them mocked him. Taunted him with that which she would not give him. It bothered him all the more for the truth of what she had said, Lezard knowing Lenneth's love is the one thing he can never claim by force. It has to be earned, and no matter how he schemed, forced, and pleaded, that love would continue to elude him.
That knowledge doesn't sit right with him. Lezard's a volatile stir of emotional unrest. He's not even thinking straight, hurt by Lenneth's truth, by her blatant rejection. His hands slide down onto her thighs, Lezard forcing them to spread. Lenneth's protesting sound only adds to his fury, Lezard reacting on childish impulse. He knows he can't have her heart this way, but he'll use any means to punish her, including turning her body against her.
Lenneth makes a horrified noise when Lezard puts his mouth on her. It's quickly silence by her hand, Lenneth shaking as Lezard cradles her hips and brings her closer to his mouth. She's not yet aroused, but she will be soon enough. Her body simply can't resist a good licking, Lezard's tongue persistent as it laved attention on her pink flesh. He let his tongue dart and weave about, opening her to his probing. Tasting her, and the creamy wetness that soon began to dribble out of her.
Lenneth continued to shake, but now there was an added purpose to her movement. She writhed in place against him, pleasure changing her fear. Her body appreciated his tongue's play on it, Lezard licking, dragging his tongue along her damp slit. He sought out her clitoris, that tiny nub of flesh that was oh so sensitive. Again that attempt to muffled her sounds, Lenneth jerking back in reaction at the touch of his tongue on her clit. Lezard would all but have to hold her legs down, to keep Lenneth from wriggling away from him, the woman highly stimulated by his mouth's forceful suction.
When she climaxed, Lenneth screamed. Her body shook, ecstasy rolling through her as Lezard continued to lick and tease her. He'd feel the constricting rhythm of her body with his fingers, Lenneth too aroused to notice the way they thrust inside to stretch her open. She had gone predictable pliant, too lost to her climax and the after shocks that shuddered through her. He'd continue to tongue her, fingers digging into her hips so hard her pale skin would bear the bruise of their imprints.
The fit of his pants had grown unbearable, Lezard thrusting against the bed sheets. He couldn't, wouldn't wait much longer. Not even to coax another climax out of Lenneth's body. His shaking hands tore at the laces to his pants, Lezard freeing himself but not bothering to remove any of his clothing. Lenneth was still recovering when Lezard slid inside her, her eyes snapping open as she made a low sound of distressed pleasure. He hadn't been as gentle as he could, his erect cock thrusting forcefully into her aroused flesh. At the moment he didn't care, gripping her hips and beginning to move before Lenneth had time to adjust to his invasion.
He was relentless, staring at Lenneth with unwavering focus. She grew flush in response, Lenneth trying to look away, only to find him grabbing at her face. With hands splayed on either side of her cheeks, Lezard forced Lenneth to stare into his eyes. His hips continued to move, his cock rubbing over every inch inside her. Faster and harder, Lenneth biting her lip to hold back her cries. He pounded her into the mattress, Lezard thrusting inside her so hard her thighs would be bruised. It wasn't enough. Might never be so long as what he wanted most continued to stay out of his reach.
His upset at that wasn't enough to make his motion falter, Lezard continuing to pump furiously into Lenneth. Her hands alternated between trying to push him off her, and grabbing at his wrists, Lezard's hands still holding Lenneth in that unwavering grip. He kept on taking out his anger and disappointment on her body, Lezard gritting his teeth as harsh breaths escaped him in short bursts.
The climax that followed was just as violent, Lezard giving in to his scream. That unrestrained howl that was a mix of both pleasure and anguish frightened Lenneth. As his seed emptied inside her, Lenneth still tried to get away. Making fitful, distressed noises that Lezard felt was an overreaction to what had just happened. He dropped his hands from her face, to lock arms around her body. Holding her close, and staying buried inside her. Reminding her of how he owned her, of how completely her body belong to him. It was a reminder he needed as well, Lezard trying to tell himself that her body was enough. Trying to convince himself that it was all he needed, her heart be damned. He might almost believe those words too, if not for the unfamiliar pang in his chest that spoke volumes of his discontent.
Iffy on the ending line. I don't hate it, just felt like I couldn't find a better way to end the chapter. *clunk* At least it's not a super short drabble like 17 was! :O
To Be Continued...
Michelle
BOots, ah..I'm not so sure she can try another escape. I mean he's got her pretty effectively boxed in. ^^;;