| Subject: Chapter 288 - Part 1 (18 and above) |
Author:
KatherineG.
|
[
Next Thread |
Previous Thread |
Next Message |
Previous Message
]
Date Posted: Monday, April 30, 11:09:51am
In reply to:
KatherineG.
's message, "Dreams in the Dark continued (273>)" on Monday, March 05, 07:03:06am
Extra warning: I'm rating this part 18 and above for sexual content and mild bad language. Sorry it's so short--but they *have* been away from each other for awhile. ;)
Dreams in the Dark (288/?)
by Katherine Gilbert
It really wasn't fair. There were so many distractions, so many people who wanted their attention. After all this time apart, it seemed maddening--no matter what their watchers' usefulness or good intentions. For three, long months, they had yearned for each other, every moment a lifetime. Now that they were finally back together, it was simply too much to ask them to wait.
They had dealt with their friends and the press as best they could--Hedda, especially, carefully maneuvered. But it was only a half hour or so later that Michael made their excuses, retreating with Nikita, as she went to her dressing room to change; there was no way they could endure any more distractions than that. There had just been too much time spent in loneliness and longing to ask them to be forever in a crowd.
This wouldn't yet be much of an escape, but it was something, the time alone a necessity. By the time they reached her dressing room, Michael letting Rene know along the way that her costume would be returned later, Nikita was more than ready for the privacy. In the last half hour, she had somewhat come to accept that her beloved's return was real, that he was actually here. But she hadn't yet heard all the details--and was desperate to know exactly what was happening from him.
She turned to him, as he locked the door behind them--her gaze holding all her amazed longing--and was glad that he understood that she needed this moment to themselves alone; she didn't even wholly see his own reactions to her, too wrapped up in her astonishment at his return. She didn't pull away at his soft approach, then, his hand on her elbow, but could think of nothing but her questions--still too stunned, desperate for details. "How did you get back, Michael?" She could only assume it was an official return, given his greeting of the press, but still . . . "Why didn't you tell me you were coming?"
Lord. There was a lot to answer, and, probably, to answer for, in these questions, but he only addressed the first one now--assuming she didn't just mean to know whether he flew or took the train. "The training's over, 'Kita." He watched her close her eyes, saw the relief on her face--the recognition that she should have realized this fact sooner. It didn't surprise him that she hadn't; the months of waiting, especially with the studio as a constant terror and distraction, had undoubtedly made the time seem too endless to keep track of. Every second had certainly been Hell for him.
His hand had slipped up her arm by this point, his knowing fingers a light caress, almost at her shoulder. Although this generally wasn't a particularly sensitive area, she could feel her whole body tingling, coming alight--the ache of their separation, of her relief at having him back, mingling somewhere deep within her form--the want almost overwhelming; she opened eyes she hadn't entirely realized she had closed to find that his own were dark and wanting. And that fact alone was nearly the end of all conversation for the night.
She had to swallow back heavily, trying to keep herself together, feeling much more like the innocent young ingénue she had been when they had first met--longing for things she couldn't entirely name but knew he alone could give her--than the relatively-knowledgeable, pregnant spouse she was. It took a lot to focus, needing more answers. She was just certain that, if she let herself, the two of them would spend every second of his return in a passionate embracing of all those neglected desires and fantasies. And she was terribly afraid that she would only know his visit was over, once she found him gone.
She tried to understand the rest of their situation now, did her best to pull together enough intelligence to ask. "Why are you back?" she questioned softly. But her voice was much more husky than normal, showing just how lost to him she was. And the fact that her words were only marginally sensible didn't make her absolute desire for him any less apparent.
He saw this clearly, hand moving up to her shoulder, lightly reacquainting himself with her beauty. Her own hands were on his chest, unable to stop touching him, making him more than aware that she wasn't disappointed at his return. Still, he *had* denied her the details; his fingers clenched against her shoulder slightly. As desperately as he wanted to kiss her, she deserved all the answers she needed from him first.
It was so difficult to focus, made him wish that he had already informed her of every detail. Months apart from her had made him wild, his only real thoughts entangled in removing every scrap of her clothing and worshiping her for hours; he had to take a deep breath to let himself begin. "They let me return, before my unit's reassigned." He saw her eyes widen, the fear there all too accurate--forcing him to tell her the rest; his hand was behind her now, almost bracing her. "We're being sent to Britain." He heard her gasp, pulled her closer, so much tighter. "I'm only here until Wednesday morning."
God, no--it was just too much. It was already Monday evening, was growing later with every second. She had the sense that she could actually feel time flying past her, cutting her in its passage, slipping away--impossible to catch; she had to hold her lower lip hard between her teeth, feeling far more young and vulnerable than she had in quite some time--doing her damnedest not to cry. But thought was her enemy, the facts remaining. The premier was tomorrow, too. She hadn't even let herself think about it, refusing to imagine having to face the red carpet and lights alone. But now, even though she would have him by her side, the event seemed all the more daunting and intrusive, would only rob them of so much precious time. They only had a little over 24 hours as it was; her eyes were tearing slightly, arms around him, desperate to feel him close. If only she had known . . .
It didn't take long before she was holding him tightly, his own arms nearly a vise around her, as well. But it was a feeling she cherished, certain they could never be near enough. It took her a moment to find her voice, her horror at all she had learned--at having him back for only so brief a time--almost too much to face. "Why didn't you tell me?"
Oh, God. Her lips were at his ear, the slight whimper evident there. It alone made his hand rise up to her hair, frustrated at finding it bound, held back from his touch; he started to take the pins out, not caring about their coming audience. Focusing on her words, on his sudden uncertainty over having kept her in the dark, only made him crazier for her. Oh, Lord. If only he could have let her know earlier . . .
It was difficult to remember his own reasons, to think about anything but his need for her--her scent a temptation like none other, torturing his soul. He had to pull her back slightly to focus on her gaze, wishing even he understood anymore. "We weren't certain it would work." She didn't seem to comprehend any better, her amazement mixed with desperate longing in those eyes he adored. "If my orders had changed, . . . If I weren't allowed to come back . . ." His sigh was shaky, wishing he could undo it all; his fingers deftly removed more of the pins, letting her hair down a little at a time. "I was afraid it would only hurt you more."
He was right to worry about his reasons, her astonishment intense; she didn't even notice what he was doing with her hair. When she found her voice, it was almost accusing. "It hurts me to have you away, Michael. It hurts me to spend a second with you gone." Her head shook for a moment, before her eyes closed--the breath deep, as she drew herself together. "Yes, I would have been upset, if you hadn't come back. Certainly, I'd have been hurt." Her look was so strong now. "But so would you." The gaze wandered. "I just wish I'd had a little time to prepare, to savor the fact that you'd be coming, to . . ."
His lips stopped her understandable list of wishes, his hand on her cheek. The light play of tongues which soon started intoxicated them both, making it difficult to pull away--but he did want her to know. "I forget how strong you are, 'Kita." His smile was adoring, thumb stroking down her face. "I keep thinking so many things I remember about you are fantasies."
She could only laugh sadly, understanding the feeling--but she couldn't wholly back his words, head shaking in resignation. "I'm not strong, Michael. I've given up any illusion of that these last few months." She closed her eyes, holding him close once more. "I just don't know how to be happy, unless you're beside me."
God. His eyes closed, holding her tightly, feeling himself going slightly mad from love. "I know." All these months, he had yearned for her, had gone through the motions of being alive, and now . . .
[
Next Thread |
Previous Thread |
Next Message |
Previous Message
]
| |
Feedback: 