| Subject: Chapter 241 - Part 1 (18 and above) |
Author:
KatherineG.
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Date Posted: Monday, May 01, 06:57:26am
In reply to:
KatherineG.
's message, "Dreams in the Dark" on Monday, May 01, 06:55:47am
Extra note: This will be the last part for a few months. Another semester is finally drawing towards its close. :)
Extra warning: This part is rated 18 and Above Only for language, as well as sexual and sensual content. It is a little short, though, for this sort of chapter. Sorry! Hope you enjoy! :)
Dreams in the Dark (241/?)
by Katherine Gilbert
There were times when, despite every threat and fear, life came together as they wanted. For once, there was no one watching, was little possibility of either of them being harmed or interrupted. They were well, too, no illness threatening. For the first time in a week, all outer annoyances had ceased. All that mattered now was each other.
It was this truth which saved them, the intimate tenderness of their one lover's soul calling to each of them--leaving no doubt as to what came next. They had already discussed what they could, had in place what plans could be made. The time for doubts had passed. Now, they were belonged to each other alone.
Fears of the future had already been dismissed, the kiss Michael and Nikita shared bonding them entirely. All the terrors which had worked them over the last few days--over the last several months--were put aside. Wherever their lives might lead, there was no cause for concern--their union far stronger than any outside threat; the kiss deepened intimately. There was no reason for doubt anymore.
It was this fact which moved them, their joy in the other's continued presence linking them tightly. Even if they had only about two more weeks together as a couple before Michael was rudely torn away from her, they would savor it; they were no longer on the road. And it was their home--however their enemies had tried, unsuccessfully, to make them fear it--which had always been the site of their love.
This truth united them, making the need which always existed within them simmer--their hands on their lover's face, as the kiss searched and lingered. They weren't in any sort of hurry--their call time tomorrow still hours away, the night their own. All they wanted was to enjoy it, to make good on all the love and desire they had been forced to delay for a week. And all they had to do was savor every moment of this now.
They did so, Nikita smiling, as she pulled back slightly, beginning to play with her husband's lower lip--teasing them both. He had already looked so wonderful when he returned from his shower in just his pajama bottoms--the rather risqué outfit only adding to her desire--his hair still damp, the scent of his just-dried skin so very tempting; her fingers ran through an unruly curl of his auburn hair--loving that he was never quite tamed for her. Still, when she heard him growl, she shivered--her whole body warming to the wonderful memory of what it was like to experience his rawest need; she drew back, almost grinning at him. She couldn't wait to see where they went tonight.
Lord. His dark jade eyes were burning, devouring her--his mind entirely uncertain if she could stand him, if he took all he wanted. She had been in such very delicate health these past few days, had needed his looking after. But now he saw all the old fires returning--the look of his only true lover goading him toward action; he felt a shudder through to his bones in need of her, wondering where this went. He didn't want to hurt her, couldn't forgive himself if he harmed their child; the hunger in his gaze mixed with a little fear. If he took her the way she always tempted him to and then . . .
No. She wouldn't allow such terror, couldn't let him doubt. Her hand stroked over his cheek softly before she pulled away, moving around him to step off the bed; she posed before him there--her fingers on the top buttons of her blouse. "I've told you before, Michael." Her smile went deeper, the camisole she wore slowly being revealed. "I'm not that delicate." His gaze had been riveted to her display but returned to hers, cautious--but her smile only taunted him. "And I do like you when you're wild."
He knew this--always had, as torn as he had often been between love and guilt at being the first to take her gift of pleasure. Still, she was carrying his child, had been so ill only a few days before; his hands clenched unconsciously against the bed, as he did his best to reel in his desire--hints of it still burning in his eyes. "Are you certain you're ready?" Her shirt opened completely, soon dropped on the floor behind her, before her hands moved to the catch of her skirt. He could see her nipples rising firm against the thin camisole--wanting to answer him all on their own--and an absolute tremor of heat ran through his blood; it was difficult to force out any of his cautious words. "I don't want to see you harmed."
His gaze had returned to her with this statement--but she wasn't fooled, could see how deep his desire ran; she had no intention of wasting it. "No, Michael. I won't wait." Her hands dismissed her skirt, the fabric falling in a puddle on the floor, and she was pleased to watch his gaze trail hungrily along her form; she had missed that, during the days when he had shown only his concern. Even naked, she didn't show much signs of her pregnancy yet--their child like an intimate secret between them; her smile widened, as she remembered the days of his conception--hands moving back to her camisole, as she made her intentions clear. "It's been a week since I last had you in me." The thin silk lifted away, Nikita glad that she hadn't worn the slip today; it was one less layer to discard. Her eyes were alight, as she saw his attention trailing hungrily over her flesh--making all her desires that much more certain. "I'm not going to wait for a moment longer."
Lord. He could tell, his body almost shivering for more--the muscles tight with the effort it took to hold himself back from her. He couldn't even put the feeling into words, as he watched her continue her incredible unveiling. Always, he had wanted her, had adored every second near her form. The fact that their marriage had finally allowed them to approach each other without any sort of barriers had only made it better. His eyes moved down, as the stockings rolled off her long legs and onto the floor. Now that she was carrying his child, he only felt that much hungrier; the shiver ran him through. And to know that they wouldn't be allowed to stay together for that much longer . . .
It was this fact which incited him the most, the week they had spent without such intimacy only a terrible sort of prelude to their inevitable separation. And it was this which truly made him--made them both--the maddest, all their need for their one, true partner inflaming with the thought, working somewhere beneath all their other desires, whipping the emotions into a whirlwind. For so long, they had been slightly unhinged with one another--their child created out of such insanity. They were two people trapped in the prison of their flesh, howling at the injustice of the universe which wouldn't allow them to simply join their souls. And it was this, constant need, more than any other truth, which made both of them absolutely insane now.
It was this--as well as their coming, dreadful separation--which moved him, no longer willing to question. He knew she felt it, understood that they were one--on this, as every other fact. When there were only her panties left to go, he stood, rising near her--his hand trailing so lightly down her naked side, his eyes burning for her alone. "Tell me you want this, 'Kita." His fingers found the side of the remaining fabric, insinuating there, as his look grew warning. "Tell me you don't want to turn back."
Oh, God, yes. She wanted everything he was promising--and so much more. She bit her lip unconsciously, unable to tell him all of her needs. Their desire had been incendiary enough before the trip--but the lack of opportunity on it, the fears which the setting of his departure date had given, all of it had only made her passion for him run that much deeper. Her fingers trailed down his chest, enjoying his shiver, before they tucked into the waistband of his pants. Now, she wanted to see him rampant, ravenous--was aching ever more, the closer she came, to just being his meal; there was a whimper in the back of her throat, as she prayed to have him at his wildest. "Yes, Michael." She leaned in, the tip of her tongue tracing temptingly over his lips. "Give me everything."
Christ. His whole body shivered at the offer, all of it playing so powerfully into his needs. Just seeing her standing there, nearly naked, before him made him wild, made him want to reward her for such a sight--gorgeous as it always was. But there was more to it than that. His fingers pulled down her underwear, his wicked smile growing, as they landed at her feet. And he intended to let her know all he felt for her now.
She had stepped out of this last garment, was grinning at the prize of his ferocious desire she was winning ever-further by the second. It belonged to her alone, could never be understood by any other woman; her grin grew--hoping to make him crazy--as she started to lower away his only article of clothing. She just couldn't wait to have him absolutely as her own.
He was, of course, shared the exact same desire with her, was almost growling, as he stepped out of the clothes--his hunger for her only growing, when her eyes moved heatedly down his skin, before coming to rest in wonder at the part which most showed his passion for her. God, yes. His pride and possession grew. He wanted her to look like this--*exactly* like this--all hungry and yielding. With any other man, she was distant and polite, always so strong. But for him . . .
He couldn't help his desires, didn't want to, speaking some of them at last--even if he wasn't certain how she might take them. "You're beautiful, Nikita. You always are." Her eyes returned, to see his feral grin. "But you're far more beautiful, when you're carrying my child."
These words could have been ones of simple love and appreciation--but that wasn't how they came across, wasn't entirely how he meant them. No. There was a possessiveness to him now, a need to have her entirely as his own; the thoughts shook him, his passion for her strong. Always, the way she begged for him made him wild, made him ache to please her. But to know that only he had ever brought her pleasure, that he alone had taught her body how to accept it, was enough to make him want to scream. Now that she would bear his child, as well--*only* his child--that feral part of him stalked all the more steadily. Finally, he had her as his mate; his gaze burned. And he alone would show her all the joy which would always exist in such a compromise for her.
Oh, Lord. She was shivering, aching for the fulfillment of every promise which waited in his gaze, her soul spinning with them. For so long, she had seen him as the epitome of masculine beauty, as everything which would always define sensuality for her. That he had chosen her amazed her still, made her want to thank him--her fingers running lightly down his chest. After all, any woman on earth would give him anything and everything just to be allowed the privilege of a simple few hours near his perfect form; her look grew almost teary. That it was she that he had chosen made her so grateful. But there was no way--in even a dozen lifetimes--that she could ever tell him enough.
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