|Subject: Chapter 290 - Part 1 (18 and above)
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Date Posted: Wednesday, June 20, 07:11:17am
In reply to:
's message, "Dreams in the Dark - continues with chapter 289 >" on Monday, June 18, 06:55:17am
Extra warning: This part is 18 and above for sexual content, as well as a few bad words. Enjoy!
Dreams in the Dark (290/?)
by Katherine Gilbert
The moment was perfect--an opportunity neither of them had ever fully expected. Even when he had heard that he would be able to return to her, Michael could never entirely believe that it would happen--certain that some catastrophe or another would stand in his way; the many difficulties of his return journey to her had only made that seem more likely. But now, he was truly here--her loving gave telling him everything he needed to settle all his meaningless fears. But there was no way he would ever be able to tell her how very much this meant.
She understood his silence, the absolute inability to convey in words how much he felt--sharing his situation completely; their gaze lingered, loving and lost. Ever since she had seen him across the studio floor earlier this evening, she had been utterly overwhelmed, had only just managed to stave off the feeling that she was in a dream; she had to swallow heavily, far too amazed by his presence, as he shut the bedroom door behind him. A revelation she had had more than once before ruled her soul. He was just too beautiful, was so perfect that he didn't even seem real; she had to blink back the sudden sting of tears. There was no way to believe that she was entirely worthy of him now.
He saw her fears, knew they were groundless--knew himself to be the only unworthy one; he came close to her, wiping away the stray tear, his hand then lingering on her face. If the last three months had taught him anything, it was that he existed only for her--was only a dim shadow of a man in her absence. He let out a soft sigh, overwhelmed at being so close. But that he was finally near her again was all that mattered now.
He leaned down to where she sat on the bed, finding her lips in a soft, thorough kiss--his soul much too full of love, need, and adoration to begin to express them in words. While part of him thought that he should simply let her be tonight--knowing full well how long and trying her studio days were, fearing any possible damage her pregnancy might do her--it had been clear to him from the moment their eyes had met that this just wasn't possible, both their need too great. They had been away from each other for what seemed to be a lifetime. Half an hour in her dressing room simply wasn't enough to make up for such distance now.
The kiss lingered, sensual and soft, for many long minutes, both his hands now on his beloved's face. The fact that her own held his to her before running up his arms to caress his shoulders, drawing him close, was nearly enough to cancel out anything like doubt. She pulled him toward her, encouraging him to crawl onto the bed with her, until they lay side-by-side, the kiss now deep and intimate--her leg tossed over his to keep him close; the groan which left him was intense, but it didn't begin to express his feelings. He pulled back with a sigh to find her eyes. He just had to know that this was what she wanted now.
This was a bit of a change in their intimate relationship. For quite sometime before his departure, he had stopped asking these sorts of questions, had allowed himself simply to take the multiple cues her body gave him--along with her early promise that she would stop him if she ever wanted to--as an excuse to love her whenever he pleased; given her always-enthusiastic reactions, she hadn't minded at all. Still, as he gazed adoringly into her eyes, his hand tender and caressing on her cheek, he knew this wasn't a time for such assumptions; a little part of him sighed. He only wished it were.
He only dimly regretted his own caution, loving her too much to ever think to blame her--knowing that their distance had probably changed things. Maybe it was this extended time away; maybe it was simply the greed he felt, becoming ravenous within him--goading him to feast on her, until she could barely breathe from her constant cries of release--but he needed to stop here, to let her know. It took a moment to find his voice. "Do you want this, 'Kita?" His breath was shaky, trying to hold his lingering need together long enough to ask--needing her to understand. "Because I didn't come home just to force you into bed."
Oh. She saw some fear in his eyes--misinterpreted it, as she was so terribly wont to do; she was sitting up now, her hand running down his stubbled cheek, aching for the feeling of his passion again, wondering--despite the very obvious answer she had been given earlier this evening--whether some part of his desire for her had dimmed, as she had always feared it might. It wasn't that she blamed him; her gaze moved down, incapable of ignoring the obvious changes since he had left her. It was so difficult to find the words. "I understand, if you don't want me, Michael." She had to bite her lip, despite herself, trying not to let her fears reign; it was a vain attempt. Dragging her gaze back to his was an effort she barely survived--even if her words were the truth. "I'm just glad to have you back."
Jesus. The surge of rage at her self-doubt, at the fact that he had been away for so long, allowing such nonsense to fester within her, was almost too much. He nearly ravaged her on the spot, determined to show her just how very strong his desire still was. He had to take a deep breath, trying desperately to hold himself in check, knowing the truth. A simple, quick fuck--like the one they had shared earlier--was not enough to change her mind; his gaze darkened with passion. She would need at least an entire nighttime's worth of attention to begin to chip away these fears.
He was more than capable of giving it, not feeling the least bit subtle anymore. Her gaze had subsided to the bed again, but he recaptured her attention by finding the bottom of her nightdress, lifting it slowly and certainly over her head. For a moment, he thought of half-trapping her in it--having had the fantasy multiple times during his absence of simply tying her to the bed and having his way with her, until she could no longer deny that she was the only woman on earth he wanted; there was a very shaky breath, as he tossed the fabric to the side. But what she needed now was a lesson that she would be far more involved in than that.
She was too amazed to stop him--not that she had ever had *any* desire to make him pause, whenever he took the notion to undress her--feeling a quickly-growing need to see where this would go. She found out quite soon, her husband lying her back on the bed before forcing her to raise her hips, demanding her subtle aid in removing her underwear--the one other barrier which kept her body from his eyes. Then, his gaze devouring her reclining, naked form, he took her hand, leading it down his side--until he placed it on the part of him which made his desire for her the most absolutely undeniable; his look flared. "Do you still think I don't want you, my love?"
Oh! She had to swallow heavily, amazed and aroused, as her fingers willingly traced over the outlines of his heavy, throbbing length; the breath she let out showed all of her astonished desire. This was far from the first time he had done this with her, but she never quite grew used to it--certain every time that both his need for her and the truly miraculous nature of this always-intriguing part of him were just her imagination running wild. Still, as she touched him, felt the pounding heat of his shaft trapped just beneath his clothes, she realized once again that he truly did desire her; her mind turned suddenly. Besides, no man in his right mind would go through everything this one did for a woman he didn't truly want.
That Michael was beautifully sane had never been questioned--except when he was with her alone; she moaned, hands abandoning her enraptured survey of his heated length to find the buttons on his shirt, wanting to see all of him this time--so very glad the lights were still on. At times like these, he could truly be a madman. But it was a type of insanity she had begged him for more than once.
She made quick work of his shirt, opening it--helped by him to untuck and pull it off, before he abandoned it with a toss by the bedside; she didn't even notice that he had had to undo his own cuffs. A second later, she moved down him, working on his shoes, eager to see him again, despite her fears. While it was a little difficult to believe that he still wanted her after all this time and hardship--especially when she didn't feel that she was even remotely a prize anymore, assuming she ever had been--she was far too thankful at his return to care; the shoes and socks landed on the floor, unnoticed, before she made her way back up his form. All that mattered was that, for even the shortest time, he was hers once again.
She kissed him, once she had returned to his lips, but he didn't fully allow it. She seemed to be asking for forgiveness of some kind--her desperation not solely fueled by love or need; he wouldn't allow it, both hands on her head to pull her back from him slightly, fixing on her gaze--his own now fierce. "Nothing you do with me should be a duty, Nikita." He held her even closer, before rolling her over underneath him--the look becoming far more wild. "Nothing I want from you can be fulfilled by you simply giving in."
Oh, Lord. He had already taken her breath away, had left her open-mouthed and panting, as she gazed up at him--but that clearly wasn't enough for her lover now. Letting out a small growl, he sat up before leaving the bed completely for a moment, tearing off the rest of his clothes. When he returned to her, stalking back over her supine form on the bed, she let out a gasp of need--only one fact certain. Whatever was to come was going to be utterly amazing now.
She was right about this but hardly had the brains left to care--every part of her mind, body, and soul swamped by pure need and love. Her husband was unbelievably gorgeous at this moment--the body she was only now getting a full look at again even more perfectly-honed from his days of training, the cock she had dearly missed almost threateningly-hard and thick, pounding for her attention; it certainly had it. But, even better than these undeniable sensual temptations was the look in his eyes--his absolute, burning need for her alone; she let out a moan, her arms embracing him, as he held himself above her--gaze glaring passionately. Oh, Lord, yes. "Mi-chael," she moaned, the back of one hand moving to trace gently over his cheek. But that was when she saw the approaching break they had both needed all along.
It was the absolute love and trust in her look which did it, destroying every bit of will he had; he told her his every thought. "I've been waiting for you for three long months, 'Kita. I've been doing my damnedest not to dream about you every night." He sat back on his heels between her widely-spread thighs, just savoring the ache of being naked and so very close to her--feeling the honey of her need teasing against his cock. One hand stroked the hair back from her face tenderly, lost between rampant desire and caressing love. "Do you have any idea how hard it is for me to read your letters--to know you're in danger and not be here to protect you?" His palm cupped her cheek, as the sigh shook from him--the red ache of need bruising through his soul. "Do you know what it's like to know that you're questioning yourself, when I'm not here to show you the truth?" He saw the smallest, lingering doubt in her eyes, and his gaze suddenly went feral, as he felt the desire pounding through him, knowing what would come. "No more." There was just no way he could stand another second of parting.
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