Hands, on either side of her face. He tilted her head up and made her meet his stare. She knew she looked slightly dazed, his eyes flicked between hers, searching, darkening. If they had actually even lightened from the shoppe. She wondered what thoughts had distracted him into holding his tongue on their way back, but she had a feeling she already knew. That they were the same ones in her mind.
She took a step back, coming up short against the door. It wasn't a sudden movement, or a surprise, though it should have been. It wasn't a surprise when he followed her steadily, maintaining his hold on her. It was like the world was moving in slow motion. Not exactly that, the sensation was hard to describe. Like, maybe she was pushing through water. But it wasn't difficult.
It was...embracing.
He kept his hands on her face, but bent his arms, pressing them in a line against her chest, stepping into her and pressing her against the door. His force was gentle, his hold steady as he held her eyes.
She didn't struggle because she didn't want to. Because it was true. She wanted him. She took a breath and felt her breasts push against the softer sides of his arms, felt her body stir with the aggressive half-embrace and indirect touch of intimacy.
He pressed tighter against her, and she felt his hips pushing hers back into the door. A firm line of heat and strength, and the sensation was like a hot knife through her gut. She knew her eyelashes did a strange fluttering thing, closed and opened, felt the tremble go through her lips, and heard it in a quiet breath. It seemed especially loud, and his hands tightened on either side of her face.
Her body liked that, too. It liked him holding her as he was, like a tightening trap that she wasn't trying to escape.
Kiss me, she thought. There was a sort of distance to the thought. Like it was separated from her.
At the same time, it seemed to ring in her body, echo in her hands as they shook. Her fingers were curled in his jacket, clutching at his sides as if to hold him in place. She hadn't even realized.
He didn't kiss her. She was going to cry, because she just could not cross that distance on her own. She couldn't. She didn't know what it was, but something inside her told her-that was a concession that she was just not ready to make.
Or face.
"Aki..." she didn't really say it, just moved her lips, but it seemed to pull him in closer. He pushed his forehead gently against hers, angling her head back so her lips were clearly on offer, but he still did not kiss her.
He breathed against her, he grew harder against her, and he held her eyes, but he did not cross that last inch between their lips.
The trembling in her stomach was taking on a desperate edge, her fingers actually feeling like claws she wanted to dig into him. Not to hurt, but to latch onto, to somehow force him to move.
He tilted his mouth, licked a quick, wet line across her lips. "Kiss me," he whispered, and she pulled on his jacket a little. It was a knee-jerk reaction. Just like the tightening of her stomach. The rush of liquid heat at the huskiness of his voice. She didn't move, but she felt like she was shaking.
Another lick, this time it lingered, this time he pushed his hips against her slightly.
Her lips parted instinctively, but he drew back again, but just his mouth. She could feel him, firm and hot against her. He seemed to be radiating heat.
"Kiss me...Aya." And what he did to her name, it actually pulled a sound from her throat. If she could have thought, she would have been mortified at the soft, needy sound that filled the air around them.
His eyes fluttered closed, and she saw him almost give in. His hands tightened on her, his hips pushed a little, and he leaned forward.
But just as quickly he froze in place, took a sharp breath that rubbed his chest against her breasts.
Then he opened his eyes again and drew back.
"Kiss me...now."
She felt her hands instantly move to obey, felt them try to draw him close. It was a manipulative obedience, because she drew him closer, but did not kiss him. And again, she almost saw him complete the motion. But again he caught himself.
It was worse, with him closer. She hadn't been able to think before, but now her heart was pulsing hard in her chest. Not a 'thump', but a deep expansion and contraction. It seemed to create a direct line right down the centre of her body.
"Okay," he said, clearly a warning, and it was almost as bad, because he did not give in, nor back down. He rubbed his nose gently against hers, purposefully slowing his breath to a tease.
'Lick' was too quick a word to describe what he did with his tongue. He slid it slowly across her lips, teasing the soft line, the join, the fullness, the part. Then he drew back to savour her taste, only to return and do it again, until her lips were tingling wildly and desperately aching for pressure.
She didn't make a decision, at least, she didn't think she did. She didn't move, didn't pull, but the next time his tongue came to play across her lips, hers licked across her bottom lip and...touched his.
Not a kiss in the conventional sense, but enough. He sank into her with a moan, his open mouth sliding into hers as his eyes fluttered closed. She made a sound, too. A soft sound of relief and pleasure that she knew he heard. His tongue caressed hers without hesitation, reaching deep as his lips rubbed harder and harder against hers.
After the teasing touches, the sharper pressure was just right, and she found her body reactively pushing up from the door, pushing closer to him, as if the kiss wasn't just with her lips, but with her whole body.
He let go of her face to slide his hands back through her hair, to place them on the door behind her and press harder against her.
A sharper breath as she shifted again in response and felt the hard zipper of his jeans rub against her. Her hands were claws now, digging into cloth and flesh and pulling. She caught at her breath in snatches, but couldn't quite seem to get a full one. She was feeling hot, and achy, and light-headed, and alone these sensations may have been alarming, but together...
He broke off, pulled back, nearly panted against her lips as her eyes remained closed and she struggled to breathe.
"Kiss me," he gasped, and she pushed up on her toes, using her own hands to take possession of his face and pull his head back down to her. The sound he made against her lips when she kissed him was almost better than the kiss itself.
She dragged her fingers through his hair and pulled, forcing the kiss deeper as if trying to taste that sound.
His hands slid down the door and he followed down her body. She protested the loss of his mouth with a jerk of her fingers in his hair until he nudged her face aside and bit her ear without preamble.
She gasped, digging her shoulders back into the door as her hips pushed forward again. He clearly liked that, so he did it again, finding new places to nip and lick until she realized that she had wound a leg around his hip and pulled him tighter against her.
This was clearly what he had wanted, because he made a low growl of desire and triumph, latched his fingers onto the swell of her hips, and dominantly pushed up.
She threw her head back, nearly crying out at the sensory overload.
The cry came out on a twist of his name, and his body grew more aggressive, his hands tightening as he held her.
She was spinning in a whirlwind of sensation and desire. She arched her back instinctively to deepen their contact, pushing up on her toes and digging her heel into his calf hard.
When he fought with the zipper on her jacket, she helped him, tugging at the irritating cloth and tangling her fingers with his. When he pulled her shirt down one side, stretching the collar over her shoulder and ruining it rather than taking the time to remove it, she didn't care. She wrapped one hand in his hair and pulled clumsily at the buttons with the other.
Nothing seemed as important as being close to him...
I want to always be close to him...
She didn't consciously form the thought, so that must mean that it was absolutely true. It spurred her on, pushed conscious thought further away, and sent pulsing desire sharper through her blood.
Lips on her collarbone, her shirt had pulled down one side, revealing her shoulder and a lace-covered breast. He curved his spine to slide lower, and the position shifted. His hips pushed deeper between her legs, the rough denim and harder zipper now pressed intimately against her. And when he closed his mouth over her breast, at the same time he rolled his hips, a strong, deep roll that rubbed that hard, throbbing part of him right over the clammy heat of her panties.
Her body shuddered as her nails sank into his hair, his back, as she took a gasping breath and locked her leg tighter around him.
'Close' took on a whole new meaning. 'Close' was everything. 'Close' was inside of her. For a moment, nothing less would ever be enough. Her mind was like petals that had been scattered by a hurricane. She could see them, they were seperate and had their distinct details, but reaching out she could not grasp them, could not hold onto them. They flitted across her mind, each true and real, but separated from her by some twist of consciousness.
'More, please' and 'never felt...' and 'only you...'
And the sweet, loving throb of 'Aki...'
Aki...
He continued that primal dance, but something was moving in her mind. Stirring like a sleeping snake. It stretched out and out, coiling around her heart. It slowly began to tighten.
That same inner-voice that had pushed and prodded at her, did so again.
Aki...
Brother...
That was all. No arguments or explanations, no leaning either way. Just a statement of fact, a test to her resolve. Was this really her decision?
Except...she hadn't made any decision. Not really. He had kissed her-
Or had she kissed him? She couldn't think.
There had been a kiss...
Was it just a kiss? It seemed to have grown larger in her mind...
You choose this...be very sure. You do this...there won't be any going back.
I'm not ready.
The thought was hers, it actually had the taste of her voice, and it rang with the true essence of her mind.
I'm not ready to do this. I'm not ready to go down this path.
That was a decision in its own, but convincing her body that she wasn't ready seemed nearly an impossible task. It countered her with desire and pleasure, with a deep throbbing in her centre and wet heat soaking through his jeans. Her fingers shook as they tightened on his shoulders. As they started to push weakly.
The way he was moving against her-she didn't really want it to stop?
An open-ended question.
No, she gasped back honestly. But we have to! We have-
Through the thin cloth of her bra he took her nipple between his teeth and pulled, swirling his tongue wetly around it.
Oh please! Oh please, I have to-! She wanted him to sprawl her out on the bed and force her, because she wanted this, but her mind was finally struggling up out of the desire. It was like some dark, warm water, and she was at the bank trying to drag herself out.
At the same time, the air seemed so hard to breathe, and it was so cold...so...
"Mmm, Aki, no..." It was a soft moan, her voice did not match her words. Nor did the weak pushing of her hands really match the tightening of her leg around his hip. She could forgive him for not stopping.
She wasn't stopping...
He drew back and warm breath blew across the wet front of her bra, the sensation was so sharp that it was almost painful. She struggled a moment in his hold, but not to escape.
She was so close to that feeling, that new addictive feeling that never seemed to be enough. Just a few more minutes, just a few more...
And then a few more after that, right? her mind mocked her softly, with nothing but the truth. Once you've gone too far, the next step is always easier, isn't it?
She whimpered, and it wasn't quite a sound of pleasure anymore. It twisted in her throat with the thickness of tears.
What am I doing?
He was pulling down the cup of her bra, and now his wet, hot mouth was on her flesh. He closed his lips over her breast and sucked deeply, teasing the tip by rapidly flicking his tongue over it at the same time.
Oh!
Pleasure was like a sharp flash through her body, a deep contraction through her centre that pushed her hips up away from the door and deeper against the sheathed hardness of his body.
She was going to cry...She wanted this! She wanted to feel this! But she couldn't! She just couldn't!
Now he let her breast go to lap at it steadily, his tongue a wet, firm line dragging the rough texture of his tastebuds over the sensitive nerves of her nipple. The kneading of his hands on her, the tiny sounds of pleasure he made in his throat, it was all chipping steadily away at her resolve. The longer they touched, the more she wanted to touch. The less she cared about consequences.
But she had to care...she had to.
It almost hurt to steady her hands, to force strength in them to push him away. Saliva laced over her breast, trickled from the stiff nipple and tightened the skin even further as it cooled. It actually ached like a pain, and her lust whispered at her, telling her that the only thing that could stop it would be to be pulled taut between his teeth again.
She closed her eyes, as if in pain, and pushed harder. The growing space between their upper bodies only seemed to push their hips into deeper contact. To feel him pressed so deep and hard against her nearly scrambled her brain, but she held stubbornly to that last thread of self-preservation. She was not ready for this.
She fiercely ignored the insinuation of that statement. The implication that time and effort would change such an idea within her. And she ignored the part of her that reached out to that desperately, as if it were some sort of hope to hold onto.
She wanted to do this, but not really, right? Not when she was in her right mind, right?
She loved him, and was clearly caught in the web of a strong lust...but it wasn't anymore than that.
Right?
His eyes slowly fluttered open, and she wondered if hers looked as wild as she felt. She couldn't tell from his reaction because he looked half-asleep. There was a confused daze to his eyes. The wideness of his pupils almost made him look blind, and the sweep of his lashes was strangely beautiful.
He was beautiful in his dishevelment. His lips half-parted and swollen red, his breath a soft pant as his gold hair was made wild by the pull and tangle of her fingers.
The look was a strange mix of lazy lust and fierce predator. Like a lion on the prowl, but comfortable in his own territory, confident that his strength could carry him through.
It was a look she didn't think she had ever seen on him before, but her body instantly tightened with reaction, going hot and wet, and shifting her hips in a move that could only be described as instinctive.
The shrinking voice of her conscience told her that these feelings, this behaviour, was unnatural.
What, then, did it mean that so many of her reactions seemed to be led by instinct? She definitely wouldn't choose the dull, achy throb in her centre that felt as if it might slowly drive her insane. Or that she felt empty, and wanted desperately only to fill herself with him. Again and again.
She groaned at that thought, not seeming to be able to help herself as her fingers dug into his shoulders. She closed her eyes and struggled hard to try and drag her mind to heel. It was being just as stubborn as her body, both elements feeding on each other in a circle and perpetuating this sharp desire that should not be.
Could not be...
No part of her seemed to be listening...
Neither was he...
He leaned forward as if pulled by that groan from her, his lashes falling down to shadow his eyes further into darkness. They weren't quite closed, looked half-drugged as he curled his hands around the small of her back and gently closed his lips over hers.
Her hands shook in hesitation, heels pushing at him while her nails held on. He splayed his hands possessively over the small of her back, then slowly dragged them down. She gasped against his lips, lifting up on her toes as he guided her hips to roll against his in firmer strokes.
She felt tears spill from her eyes, it was that hard to make herself consider stopping. She didn't consider it, she just knew she had to. If she let this dance carry through to completion here and now, that would be it. Maybe not that exact moment, or the next moment, but some time soon, some time tonight, he would have her spread out on that bed and the hot, insistent pushing of his hips would become inescapably real.
She shuddered at the thought, at the mental image, and almost came undone right then.
But at the same time a fissure of fear traced lightning bolts over the pleasure, and the thick, burning honey in her lower stomach suddenly hardened and grew heavy.
"Mmm!" She tried to pull her mouth back, but he followed. It wasn't like he consciously wouldn't let her go, he just moved when she did and changed the angle of the kiss.
"Ak-ki! Mm-no..." Snatches of breath between kisses, she knew she had managed to say that out loud, but it was so tangled by lust and confusion that she wasn't sure that she actually formed words, that he could understand her.
Was he even in a head-space where he could hear her?
He seemed to be balancing on a sharper edge of control than she was, or maybe he wasn't balancing at all and had already fallen. It was unsettling, to see her forever-serious brother so overcome by emotion.
Unsettling...and compelling.
Transformed by lust...he seemed a thing of beauty. Like this intensity of emotion was what he hid behind that calm mask, and she was finally, finally being allowed to touch the real him.
Again, she almost slipped under. It was almost worth it, to give in, to bind herself so closely to him in sin, just to keep holding on to the feeling that she was touching his soul.
His hands slipped under her skirt, and she jolted awake from the haze of sweetness she had been drifting into, hot fingers kneading her thighs, slowly slipping up to the elastic of her panties, and some sort of switch flipped inside her. Instant panic welled up, and she suddenly began to struggle desperately.
"Aki, no!"
He grappled with her for a moment, lifting her up against the door, pushing her harder back against the wood...