She wasn't going to wait, not when it came to HIM, her Aeden; not when it came to what she felt, what she wanted to experience with him. He wouldn't be a callous, selfish taker of her gifts, a clumsy plunderer of her wealth of pleasures; he would be a sharer of his. Her Aeden would be a MAN, not an overly excited dog to hump her leg. Still, she questioned herself as to her motives, was she still trying to control him? or was it her wish to be claimed, taken, by him. When we lay with another, do we surrender ourselves, or accept their surrender to us? It was a question she always had the answer to in the past. THEY were giving themselves to her; they were the ones who wanted, needed, the ones she ensnared; and they were as easily discarded as the bones she cleaned from her plate at this meal once her hunger had been sated. So why was she still seated at the fire? why was she lingering as the others droned on? and why was her Aeden not looking at her?
He sat at the fire, directly across from her, that was odd in itself, why was he sitting away from her? HE SHOULD BE AT HER SIDE! Shouldn't he? Should they not be sitting side by side, eating from the same plate? Isn't that how this should be being played? their game?
She was confused. She was always the predator in terms of passion. Now HE held her in his trap, the snare of his eyes, the bait of his lips, his tongue, his soft, yet strong hands that She watched as he licked them clean, and closed her legs as she felt her sex grow warmer from want of his fingers, and lips, and tongue there. Would he be so inclined? Aeden's mouth; his soft, wet, gentle, remarkable mouth. How it filled her thoughts since he kissed her, then tasted her ear, her neck... oh how he tasted her neck: so hungrily, yet softly to, as if it were a long piece of hard candy he wanted to suck the sugar from. She rubbed it, and looked away as she involuntarily sighed. She hated herself for being so obvious in her wanton state, a nervous seer divining up all her cards, as it were, on the table before him. What are you Aeden Cousland to be so aloof to a woman whose name you moaned and sighed so passionately that it made her look into her soul for a place to store the memory of your name? Look at me Aeden, DAMN YOU!
He continued to chat up the others.
She continued to stay, staring at him.
Strange he was being so indifferent to her. No man that she had set her eye to had ever been that way to her, but none had effected her as much as Aeden did. She was almost depressed about it. It made no sense for him to ignore her; after she had felt so elated after their kiss. perhaps that was it. For all its passion to her it still was just that to him, a kiss... and not the deep, soft, wet, wonderful kiss... From HIS lips, that she could not look away from as they ate at supper as the sun set and they sat as a whole, all five of them... NO, for her it was only the two of them, and the three guests at their fire; the one that generated the heat between them, and not of the one which lit the dusk and cooked their meal.
He talked to the others of his life, his feelings on the battles they fought. He was so fascinating, so dominant of the conversation in such a non-invasive way, he was simply so very her Aeden.
She was mesmerised by him, she simply could not look away from his lips, his white-blue eyes as they glanced at the others, but only briefly at her's. He held her internally, she needed him to look at her - such maddening power he had over her - did he do it on purpose?
He coughed as she accidentally dropped a piece of chicken down between her breasts, and blushed.
She smiled and feigned embarrassment as she pulled it out, slowly, from between her breasts, watching his eyes.
He was watching her hand, heatedly, then into her eyes, and lingered; his eyes dilated black, then looked away quickly.
She smiled, not because she held his attention, but because she never lost his attention for a moment, he was simply being discreet... the tease; they WERE one mind, one focused on the other; just as it should be between so perfectly matched a pair as they. There was now only to confer the title that was proper to the union, with the act, and earn the word... Lovers... as in those who make it, but may not be in it. (Yes - whatever lie feels best... Morrigan)
Would he consent? Yes they had kissed; yes she had been intent upon this act from the get go, but not this soon, and not from a place of passion as it so clearly was now. She wanted him, and wanted him to want her. She was feeling... what? vulnerable? Would he want her as she wanted him? or would it have all been a lie she was telling herself? A little girl's fantasy of romantic love, and fated, mutual, attraction?
She walked away from the group, her eyes on his as she walked to her tent; the gold of her irises were little more than rings around her dilated pupils. Invitations are very infrequently more obvious, or more fateful to the one issuing them.
He rose.
"It is cold, in my tent, all alone," she said sheepishly, her eyes turned down as those of a child.
"Well," he said as he drew closer to her bowed form, "we can't have that."
"So you will join me in my tent?" she asked innocently, her fingers stroking his, "But, whatever shall we do in that tiny space?"
"I'll think of something," he sighed, and caressed her cheek.
"Good," she said, instantly, "then let us waste no more time with foolish talk."
His lips, Aeden's wonderous lips, once more tasted hers. His fingertips caressed her face and neck and made her weak with desire as they toyed with the strap of her dress.
Her hands fumbled with the straps to his armor as he made such wonderful brief work of her dress as it fell around her feet.
His gently caressing fingers found her breasts before his chest was bared, not that she minded as they teased her nipples; but his fingers soon found a far more practical purpose, and in a very short time they made short work of both of their respective armor,: his steel, her breast-plate of necklaces... her vanity, his distance; and made a covenant in the tent, two as one till the morning or the fade... whatever came first.
She smiled as the last of their undergarments fell from their bodies, and his mouth found her most private spot.
He was far from a novice, and he was not making her settle for a hammering of her hips, and a quick departure; he was giving to her body for its generous offer, and her very essence rejoiced in appreciation of his tender gratitude for having been offered it. She was breathless long before he slid his peerless manhood past her achingly willing, and anxious nether lips. He plied her body in a hypnotically slow, smooth rhythm that had her panting even more as he coaxed from her waves of passion from the very heart of her woman's body, and made her glory in her gender.
She, for her part, gripped him with all the strength in her body, desperate to hold this union inside her, as it was slowly working its way into her heart.
The two played at this sweet distraction that binds two into one for hours longer than she had played at it in the past, or had ever wanted to. She was hungry for him as though she had never been given from a man's flesh before. She clutched his body to her when they neared climax as fiercely as when they lay entwined in the afterglow and he kissed her naked, inflamed flesh, as if trying to cool it with his lips.
Somewhere, in the depth of her, she found a new word for pleasure; and gave soft, impassioned voice to this new word. It wasn't something as unknown to her experience as 'love'; it was far more real, far more genuine, hard, and tangible, it was what she would kill for; a word spoken from her heart, the place it now resided, against her own best efforts, and it slid gratefully from her lips as he kissed her neck after expelling his seed moments after he once more brought her to the precipice of all pleasure that no man, no victory in any sense ever, had ever given her... "Aeden."