Fires of Desire
by
Owlcroft
'Fire ever doth inspire,
And makes all like itself, turns all to fire . . .'
John Donne
"Um, dearest . . ." Beetlejuice looked at Lydia as she pulled the bed covers back and she instantly discerned the question in his eyes.
Her response was to go over to him and run her fingers up his chest to the top button of his nightshirt, unbutton it, and tickle his sparse golden chest hairs. Then she gently poinked his nose.
"You haven't done that in . . . months," he said in surprise.
She shrugged and poinked his nose again. "It seemed . . . I don't know – I think I felt you didn't like it so I stopped. But your nose is just so poinkable I couldn't help myself this time. You have such an adorable nose."
"You have," he told her, taking her in his arms, "a mouth perfect for a pout, a grin, a look of surprise or curiosity. But most of all, for kisses."
She used that mouth to give his chin a quick peck. "You know what I like about you?" When he raised his brows at her, she told him, "Everything."
He kissed her then, passionately, lengthily. When they came up for air, he pushed her hair back a little and looked at her with reverence and need. "Thou art too dear for my possessing . . . for how do I hold thee but by thy granting, and for that riches where is my deserving?" Her pajamas were off now and his nightshirt was on the floor.
"Is that something Will wrote?" Lydia asked, twining strands of his hair between her fingers as he lifted her in his arms and placed her on the bed.
"Uh-huh. But I don't think he ever said anything about ribs." He climbed beside her and ran his tongue over her ribs lightly until she giggled and grabbed at his hair to bring his face up to hers. "Ribs – they're not a subject for poetry. But yours are. And the bones of your hip . . ." He ran a hand over her hip and nuzzled her neck. "Poems are written to eyes or smiles, but your hips, your bones . . ." He suited his actions to his words of adoration and she responded with caresses and kisses and strokes of her own.
He lowered his mouth again to hers, which took it greedily as her hands trailed up his back, pulling him closer. Their caresses increased in passion and intensity until Lydia tugged him between her knees.
As she pulled his hips toward her his hand began stroking and fluttering between her legs and as he entered her, his fingers moved faster. Her ardent thrusts forced his into a quick rhythm and they rocked and surged together until she gasped suddenly and he began to pant quickly in response. They shuddered and clutched and moaned until Lydia cried out sharply and Beetlejuice bucked and arched his back as he gave a high-pitched, drawn-out groan that seemed to oddly harmonize with hers. Then he buried his face in her hair, kissing her neck as their movements slowly eased.
For several moments, they lay silently as they caught their breath – still exchanging gentle, languid touches – until he murmured something that she didn't catch.
"My darling," she whispered. "What?"
He breathed deeply, then said again softly, "Yours. And you're mine. Forever."
"Yes," she answered. "My darling Beej."
"Oh," he suddenly pulled out and away from her. "Dearest, I am sorry. I always forget to make myself weightless for you."
"I've told you you don't have to. I don't really want you to." She gave him a contented, loving look. "I want to feel you, all of you, you beautiful, ridiculous thing, you." Lydia gently stroked the ribs she'd been clawing at a few minutes before. "Come here," she told him and took him into her arms, resting her head on his shoulder as he lay down beside her.
He was never exuberant, never chatty or lively, after the act of love. He was tender, and quiet, and . . . grateful. So loving and gentle, adoring her still, but tenderly. "Heart's treasure, precious dear one," he murmured. And as usual, he was drowsy, already falling asleep. It was if his passion was so intense, so all-consuming, that he needed immediate rest to recover from it. His last conscious action was to juice their nightclothes back on and then he was out.
Lydia lay contentedly listening to his heartbeat slow and his breathing become calm. She snuggled up closer to him after he drifted off and kissed the area over his heart, then smiled to herself. All those years ago, who could ever have imagined the culmination of these two hearts finding each other. "My one true love," she whispered and followed her darling into sleep.