WARNING: This next part contains fairly graphic scenes of a sexual nature between two concenting adults. (lucky them!) While it does not contain words that are pornographic in nature, it still should not be read by anyone who is underage, or who feels uncomfortable reading about such things. This section is definately rated R. You have been warned.
Part Seven
Remy started to go after her, but Rhiannon almost seemed to vanish. Nostrils flared, eyes narrowing, he looked into the darkness. Damn it, Rhiannon, he thought. Why you always run?
He knew he could find her though. Eventually, she would return to her home. If you really wanted to get rid of me, you should 'ave kept dat bit of information to you'self, he thought. But why do I t'ink dat deep down, you wanted me to keep tryin?
He looked back towards the mansion, running his fingers through his hair. He did not want to go back there, he was not ready to confront Scott. His anger at the man's actions was still burning inside him. He thought Cyke behaved completely irrationally and irresponsibly. Yes, it was obvious something very serious had gone down between Rhiannon and Bobby, something so serious that professor Xavier felt it necessary to erase Bobby's memory of the girl, but that did not mean Scott had the right to behave so badly. Logan seemed to have no problem with her. And if the professor did, Remy had the feeling he would have been out there talking to Rhiannon himself.
Putting his hands in his pockets, he started walking. He might as well head to her place. If she was not there, he could wait. He thought about taking the bike, but changed his mind. The walk would give him time to cool down and plan his next method of attack. Don' t'ink you're getting away dis easy, Rhiannon, he thought.
Rhiannon ran home as fast as she could. She did not quite move at the lightning fast pace of most vampires, but she could move much faster than most mortals. Also, she did not have to breathe for long periods, so her endurance was remarkable. She made it back to the cabin long before Remy was even half way to her place.
She flung open the door of the cabin and ran in, slamming it behind her. How could I have thought we had a chance? she thought. He's an X-Man and there is one X-Man who will never forgive you.
She looked around for Stealth, but did not find him. She was not surprised. He's probably roaming the streets looking for fresh meat. He'll find it too, lucky bastard. I wish I could have his attitudes. "I do what I must to survive. I don't kill, and I give as well as take." It's so neat and handy
Alone as usual, she thought. She wished she were performing tonight, so she could go and lose herself in the lights, the music, and the audience. She had work tomorrow, but that was no help with tonight.
She went outside and sat down on the dock, watching the way the moon reflected off the water. Occasionally a fish would jump to the surface, trying and perhaps even succeeding at catching some sort of insect. Rhiannon watched the ripples they made, spreading out smaller and wider until they disappeared. At least he stuck up for you, she thought, again running over in her mind her evening. He could have been on Scott's side and you really could not blame him. He's been an X-Man a lot longer than he's known you.
It was getting close to dawn when she finally decided to stop this exercise in self-pity and get some sleep. She climbed up the ladder, into her loft sleeping area. As she took off her shirt, she caught Remy's scent, faint but still there. It must have lingered from when he let me use his coat. She brought the shirt to her nose and inhaled deeply before draping it on a chair. Then she pealed off the rest of her clothes and climbed into bed. Her sheets even seemed to have his scent. Not only his, but hers too. The scent of sweat and passion. I guess I should go to the Laundromat tomorrow, she thought as she closed her eyes and drifted off to sleep.
She had not been asleep for five minutes when careful fingers pried open the roof window and opened it carefully. It was not really a skylight, but an actual window, put into the roof to let light and air into the loft. It was a snap to jimmy open.
She woke up when she heard the window being raised. As she sat up in bed, Remy slipped through the window, dropping down on her bed. "'Ello Chere."
Not even stopping to consider what this might mean, she scrambled from the bed, trying to escape. He seemed prepared for this though, and leaped off the bed, cutting off her escape to the ladder. "Uh-uh-uh," he said, moving his finger back and forth as though scolding a young child. "No runnin' Rhiannon. I'm awful tired of dat game."
"You broke into my cabin!" she said, stupidly.
"Child's play," he said with a dismissive wave of his hand. "Now, are we gonna finish our talk like civilized people, or do I 'ave to keep blocking de ladder down from 'ere?"
"You can't keep me here against my will," she said, sneering. "I could jump down from the loft without getting hurt."
"It's the thought that counts," he said, countering her argument. "C'mon Darkstar, I didn' run when you tole me you were a half vampire. Don' run from me now. Please?"
The "please" stopped her. Please. Like I've somehow become important to him, she thought. She stopped. "All right," she whispered. "I owe you that much."
"Does everyt'in 'ave to be pay an' owe wit' you, Rhiannon?" he asked. "Can't you talk to me jus' because?"
She sighed, moving back to the bed and sitting down on it. "You know now that Scott Summer is never going to forgive me. You know I am a half vampire. Do you still wish to be friends with me?"
"Sounded to me like the vampire t'ing wasn' your choice," he said, coming over and sitting down next to her. "As for Scott Summers, I don' understand why he hates you so much, but dat's his problem. Don' get me wrong, he's a good leader an' I suppose he's a friend in some ways, but on dis I don' t'ink he's got his head on straight. Logan seems to still like you, and I've always found him a better judge of character. Besides, X-Man or not, I'm my own person an' I'll make up my own mind, t'ank you very much. So, in answer to your question, yes, I still wan' to be your friend. I would still like to be your lover too, if dat job is open." He looked her over, his eyes gleaming.
In the panic of having him break into her cabin, Rhiannon had all but forgotten she was naked. She felt the heat behind her cheeks, but did nothing to cover herself. It was not like he had not seen her sans clothing before. "Remy, what you're suggesting is dangerous," she said, running her fingers through her hair and looking at him. "I fed from you last night. I tasted your blood and I liked it. If we were to continue having sex, I would continue to feed from you. I like the taste of your blood, even more; I like the feeling it gives me. When a vampire feeds on blood, they not only taste the blood, but they taste the emotions the person is feeling when they are being bitten. And I like the emotions I stir in you. I like them a lot."
"So?" he shrugged. "You tole me earlier, you can' kill me by drinkin' my blood. You said you took 'bout a pint from me las' night. How much would you take if we were to do it tonight?"
"Not much at all," she said. "Perhaps a tablespoon or so. I'm still full."
He nodded, then his brows furrowed. "'Ow come I can't remember you drinkin' from me last night?"
She chuckled. "Remy, if people could remember being bitten by vampires, there would be no vampires left. They would have been hunted down and destroyed. You're still thinking of movies and books you've read. While a full-blooded vampire can easily drink a man dry, they usually don't. It's much safer to take small drinks from several people. A lot of bodies with no blood would arouse too much suspicion."
"Good point, but dat still don' answer the question, how come I can' remember?"
"Because when I feed from someone, there is a bond created between us. Sometimes it's called the rapture, because I can control your emotions through it. But, I can also use this bond to influence your mind to forget you were bitten."
He nodded. "Dat makes sense. Good self preservation t'ing."
"Survival of the fittest is a law that doesn't just apply to living things," she said with a wry grin.
He reached out and touched her cheek, stroking it gently, using just the ball of his thumb. "Poor Rhiannon," he murmured. "When I was walkin' over here, I thought about what 'appened to you, about dat night when you were changed, an' I realized dat must 'ave been awful. Not only dat night, but later, when you realized somet'ing must 'ave happened. Dere was no one to tell you what 'appened, was dere?"
She shook her head. "No. I figured out a lot of it by myself, bit by bit. But later, I did meet someone who helped me." And still helps me, she thought. I wonder what Remy or the rest of the X-Men would make of Stealth?
She looked at him. "I don't want your pity, Remy. It won't do me any good."
"It's not pity I give you, it's sympathy. I don' pity you, Rhiannon. You're too strong for dat."
She reached up and put her hand over his, the one that was on her face. "So, what happens now, Remy? What else do I tell you?"
Several questions crossed his mind, but he did not ask any of them. Instead he leaned over and kissed her. She froze for a brief moment, then kissed him back. His other arm wrapped around her and he pulled her close.
When they finally drew away, she looked at him. "You're serious aren't you?" she asked, brows furrowing. "You really want it to happen again, don't you?"
He nodded. "But one t'ing I'd like to change, Rhiannon. I wan' to remember."
"You do remember parts of it," she said. "It's just the bite you forget."
"I want to remember all of it," he said, his gaze fixed on hers. "I want to remember de bite too."
"You're strange," she said, her voice low.
"Non, just curious," he countered. He moved away from her, standing up.
"I didn't say I wouldn't do it!" she said, thinking that he was going to leave. "I just don't understand why."
"Rhiannon, I t'ink you worry too much," he said. He pealed off his jacket and laid it over a chair. "I wasn't leavin' I was just getting comfortable."
A small chuckled escaped her throat. "Well, looking around I would conclude that either one of us is underdressed or one of us is seriously overdressed."
"Which is it?" he asked, looking down at her.
She looked up at him and whispered. "I think you're overdressed."
A slow, easy grin crossed his face. "I t'ink dat's easy enough to fix." He pulled off his boots and started pealing off his shirt.
She stood up. "No, let me." Taking the edge of his T-shirt in her hands, she started rolling it over his stomach. She leaned over and kissed his belly, licking at the skin she exposed as she slowly raised his T-shirt.
He closed his eyes, feeling the warm; wetness of her tongue as it slid over his skin. She felt warmer than she did last night. Because she fed, he thought. It's my blood dat's warmed her. Surprisingly, he did not find that thought repulsive, instead it was almost erotic. What could be more sensual than knowing it was you who made someone warm inside?
She rolled the shirt over his chest, marveling at how smooth his skin felt. He raised his arms above his head. As he did, she pulled the shirt off him, letting it fall to the floor. He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close, feeling her skin on his. His hand moved between them, rubbing lightly over her breasts. "I can feel your heart beating, Chere," he said softly.
"I can feel yours as well," she said. Her fingers moved to the waist of his jeans. "Will you let me take the lead?"
He leaned over, kissing her ear. "Do I 'ave a choice?" he whispered.
For a moment she froze, thinking he was implying she had some sort of control over him, that he was powerless with her. Then she realized he was joking with her. Her hands played with the snap and she nuzzled his neck, nipping his earlobe. "No, you don't." she whispered back, ticking the inside of his ear. "I'm in charge tonight."
"Den I 'ave no choice but to let you 'ave your way wit' me," he said. A short gasp escaped his lips as she slid her finger down into his jeans, her thumb undoing the top button. "Just promise you'll be gentle."
She suppressed a snicker. "I'll try, but I might lose control."
"I'll take de risk."
She kept one finger between his groin and the jeans, using her thumb to raise the zipper, releasing the latch. Slowly, she pushed it down, moving her finger along with it, pushing it down. A long, sighing breath came from his mouth. Her eyes widened with delight as she began pealing the jeans away from him, pushing them down from his hips, along with his underwear.
When she pushed them over his thighs, the jeans fell to the floor, pooling around his feet. She stepped back from him and looked him over. "You are so beautiful," she whispered.
"Don' you mean handsome?" he teased, stepping out of the jeans and pushing them away with his foot.
"No," she shook her head. "Handsome isn't a strong enough word. Handsome is for Ken dolls and men in business suits. It's a tidy, civilized word. Beautiful is better. Beautiful is wilder, freer." She moved over, reaching her hand around his neck and tugging the elastic that held his hair back, pulling it away. "Yes," she murmured. "You're beautiful."
He shook his head, letting his hair fall about his shoulders. She watched him, eyes glittering. Grinning, he slid his arms around her, scooping her up and walking over to the bed.
"I thought I was in charge!" she protested, grinning.
"Oui, you are, but my legs are gettin' tired." He laid her down on the bed then climbed in next to her, stretching out beside her. "Dat's better."
She sat up and started running her hands down his body. "I love the way your skin feels," she murmured, as she ran her fingers over his chest, teasing them over his nipples. "I could touch you all day."
"I like de feel of your hands," he said, his eyes closing. "I wouldn' mind your touchin' me all day. But I'd like to touch you, too."
"Soon enough," she murmured, her fingers trailing down over his stomach. She brought her free hand to his mouth, running her index finger along his lips. He drew it into his mouth, licking it. When it was slick from his saliva, she drew it from his mouth and brought it down to his stomach. She swirled it around his navel, then brought it to her own lips and licked it, coating it again. Then she placed the tip inside his bellybutton and swirled it around gently.
His eyes opened, widened, then closed into half slits of red and black. Reaching up, he cupped her right breast in his hand, running his thumb over the nipple, causing it to harden. "Nice."
"Oh!" Her eyes widened, and she froze, for a moment only able to concentrate on this feeling. She drew her lower lip into her mouth and pulled away, reluctantly. "I thought this was my show," she whispered.
"Aw, I can' play at all?" he teased.
She shook her head, leaning over so the tips of her hair were brushing along his face. "No. You said I could take the lead tonight."
"All right." With a mock-sigh, he forced his hand away from her breast. "But I get to be in charge de next time."
"Sounds fair," she whispered. A feeling of warmth was rising inside her. He said next time, she thought. Next time, next time, next time. Over and over, her mind played on those words. She was not used to a next time. In her world, there was only room for once. The fact that this was happening a second time was amazing enough, but to think there would be a third time was too much to hope for. But he had said the words.
"Close your eyes, Remy," she finally managed to whisper. "Close your eyes and let your feelings take over." She looked at him. This would tell her a lot. Asking someone to close their eyes, to be unable to see what she was going to do to them was a risk in any situation. Even more so in the case of a vampire, or even half vampire. She would not blame him if he was not willing to go quite that far, but she had to test it.
He closed his eyes without any hesitation. He trusts me! A slow grin spread over her face as she reached down and began stroking along his legs, feeling the muscles, hard and solid, noting the way they contrasted with the softness of his skin. If I could, I would touch your soul forever, she thought. But I will settle for this. The hunger does not burn within me tonight. I have the time. I am going to know every inch of you; I am going to love every bit of you.
She moved so she was kneeling between his legs, rubbing her fingers down them, feeling the soft, reddish-brown hairs that tickled her palms. Unable to resist, she leaned down and kissed each knee.
"No one ever done dat before," he murmured, eyes still closed.
"Why?" she whispered. "You have cute knees."
"Hmmm?" Eyes shut, his brows furrowed as if he did not quite believe she could find his knees attractive.
Her fingers continued down his legs, exploring his feet gently. He had long, thin feet with long toes. She noted with some amusement that his second toes were longer than his big one. It was not an uncommon thing, but it made his feet just a bit imperfect. He had such a magnificent body; any sort of imperfection was almost a delight.
"You like my feet?" He asked, feeling her fingers running along the sole of them, rubbing at the skin in his arches.
"I like all of you," she answered. She took the left foot with both hands and gently began massaging it. "It's a long walk from the mansion to my place, I'll bet your feet are tired."
"Non, I'm used to walking," he answered automatically, then added, "But dis does feel nice."
She rubbed his left foot for a few minutes, them moved to the right foot, massaging it carefully. She had never rubbed anyone's feet before like this, she never knew it could be such an intimate experience.
When she felt his feet were completely relaxed, she moved away from them, running her fingers up his legs again. She did not pause at the knees this time, but continued upwards, stroking his outer thigh. His breathing was quicker now, the muscles in his legs tensing. "Something you want?" she whispered.
"Non," he said, his teeth gritting as her fingers moved over his thighs, moving toward the thatch of ginger curls. "Dis is your show."
"Aw," she let her fingers pause, the tips of her index fingers just touching his pubic hair. "Do you want me to touch you?"
"Oui," he whispered.
"How badly?" she asked, head tipping to one side.
"Very badly," he said. "Please, Rhiannon?"
She looked down, seeing the beginning of excitement stirring in him. With a small smile, she wrapped her fingers along the length of him.
"Oh!" He gasped, his hips rising from the bed as her long fingers closed around his member, gently stroking up and down. "Rhiannon!"
She brought her other hand up to her mouth and licked the palm, coating it with her saliva. Bringing it down, she unwrapped her other hand from him, and wrapped the other one around it, never breaking the rhythm she had started. Wet now, the hand moved easily, gilding along his skin. She could feel it throbbing, thickening, and growing beneath her fingers. "I do believe it likes me," she said.
"Oui," he said, between gritted teeth. His eyes were screwed shut; his breath slipping out in short bursts from his nostrils. He felt as if his body was on fire, starting at his groin and spreading through all of him. "'Ow long you gonna torture me, Rhiannon?" he managed to say.
She chuckled. "Oh, I've only begun, Remy. You asked for this, and you're going to get it." She brought her other hand up to her mouth and licked her palm, then brought it down. Flexing her fingers back, she brought her palm down and ran it in slow, lazy circles around the head.
He barely managed to keep his eyes from flying open in shock. His fingers curled around the sheets, clutching them tightly. Unable to stop himself, a cross between a moan and a growl slid from his lips. She smiled, delighted that her simple actions could bring him so much pleasure. She had not even bitten him, yet he was acting like someone who was feeling the rapture. It gave her a feeling of power, power in her own self. Not in what she was or what she had become, but in who she was. She, Rhiannon Lestan could make this man moan in pleasure, using nothing but her fingers.
She removed her hands, moving so she was lying on her stomach between his spread legs. He still had not opened his eyes, and she wondered what he thought when her hands had stopped touching him. Leaning her head down, she let the tips of her hair run along his upper legs, ticking the skin. Opening her mouth, she blew on him, her breath warm. The slight loss in excitement when her fingers were no longer touching him was reborn at the feel of her breath.
"Mon Deiu," he whispered.
She slid one hand between them, reaching up to cup his scrotum in her palm, rolling the balls of her fingers along it. Leaning her head down closer, she ran her tongue along the length of him, along the underside, stopping at the swelling of the head. She ran her tongue around, tipped her head, and then slid it down the upper side.
"Rhiannon!" he cried out.
At the sound of her name, she raised her head and brought her mouth down, drawing the entire length of him into her mouth, sucking gently, slowly, until the head was pressed against the back of her throat.
Unable to stop himself, his eyes flew open for just a moment. He clutched the bottom sheet in his fists, twisting it. "Ooooh!"
She rewarded his moaning by pressing her tongue along the underside of him and sucking a little harder. Thank god I fed last night, she thought. I don't think he wants me to feed from this particular area. She could feel her upper lip tingling, the hidden blood teeth wanting to come down, but she fought it. They might have been small, but they were razor sharp.
For several minutes, she just kept him in her mouth, sucking gently, listening as he gasped and moaned. Then, when it seemed that he was becoming almost used to the sensation, she began moving her head up and down, loving him with her mouth.
"Oh!" He began thrusting his hips to meet her mouth, unable to keep still. "I don' know how much of dis " he panted. "I can take."
She answered him by sucking harder and moving her head faster, her fingers still stroking underneath. His hands disentangled from the sheets and moved instead to her head, running his fingers through her hair. "Rhiannon," he gasped, fighting to gain some sort of control over his body. "Dis isn't very good for you."
That's what you think, she thought, her head moving faster.
His fingers curled in her hair, not wanting to hurt her, but unable to resist. His hips were moving faster now. She's not going to stop, he realized. She wants this.
Then his own body took over, shutting off all rational though. His eyes flew open again, rolling back in his head, he slammed his hips up to meet her, back arching, and spent himself in her mouth. "My god," he whispered his body shuddering.
When his fingers finally stopped gripping her hair, holding her head down, Rhiannon sat up, between his legs. Grinning, she ran her thumb over her lower lip and licked it. "I wonder if this really is a cure for acne," she said brightly.
He stared at her, the aftermath of passion still clouding his brain, so he did not immediately grasp what she was saying. Finally though, he smiled. "Yours or mine?"
"I don't know," she admitted. "It's just something boys used to tell me when I was younger. That a blow-job could cure acne."
"Not like dat seems to be anyt'ing we 'ave to worry 'bout anyway," he said, holding his arms out. "C'mere Rhiannon. I wanna hold you."
She moved so she was lying next to him. He gathered her into his arms. He snuggled up to her, nuzzling her neck. "T'ank you."
"For what?" she asked, puzzled.
"For what jus' appened," he said. His hands wandered over her body, rubbing her sides gently. "It's not like it could 'ave done a lot for you."
"Don't be silly," she admonished him gently. "If I hadn't wanted to do it, I wouldn't have. I enjoyed it. There is something very satisfying in being able to reduce a strong, intelligent man into a senseless idiot."
He chuckled, kissing her earlobe. "Maybe now you give me de chance to turn de tables, no?" His hands moved between them, running his fingers along the valley between her breasts, his thumb reaching out to stroke the nipple on the right one.
"Ohhhh!" her eyes widened. "Can you.. I mean, are you up to it?"
"I t'ink wit' a little time I could be," he admitted, his hand cupping her right breast and stroking it gently. "Jus' touchin' you is a hell of an incentive."
"I could, um, help that along a bit," she whispered in his ear.
"How?" he whispered back.
"By feeding," she confessed, blushing slightly.
He thought about it for a moment, his hand still stroking her breasts, teasing the nipple into a turgid peak. "All right," he whispered, "But I wan' to remember, Rhiannon, you promised."
Actually, she had not, specifically promised, but she was not going to bring up technical details right now. She started licking his neck, running her tongue along the juggler vein, softening the skin. Her upper lip began tingling and her blood fangs dropped. Opening her mouth wide, she ran just the tips of them along his neck.
His body tingled and a shiver went through him. Although he did not want to, his body stiffened as he felt her teeth running along his neck. Is it going to hurt? He barely had time to finish the thought when she started sinking her fangs into his skin. For a moment, it felt like bee stings, then, almost as soon as it started, it vanished as her teeth slipped back into her gums and her lips fastened around the two tiny wounds.
Since she was not ruled by the hunger tonight, she drew in only a couple drops. Her body shivered. Hunger or not, it tasted wonderful, like copper and life. She swirled the drops over her tongue, savoring them before letting them slide down her throat.
As she drank his blood, she automatically forged a link between them. Although it might not have been as easy for her, only being a half vampire, she made it seem easy. Suddenly she was in his mind, tapping into the pleasure center. Take it slow, she warned herself. No need to rush. She began easing the rapture through him.
His body relaxed a slow feeling of pleasure starting to move through him. His arms tightened around her, holding her tight. "Oh, Rhiannon," he managed to murmur.
With the hunger less urgent, Rhiannon could take her time. She eased around his mind, slowly stimulating him.
His fingers stayed curled around his breast, still stroking it gently. Hardly aware he was even doing it; his other hand slid down and started stroking her outer thigh. The rapture was easing itself through him, almost like slowly, sinking into a hot bath. Ohgoditfeelssogood! ran though his mind.
Glad you like it, lover, she answered.
You know what I'm t'inking? he asked her, in her mind. Part of him thought he should be shocked by this, but it was hard to be stunned when waves of rapture were flowing through your body and mind.
Just when I'm feeding, she answered. It's the bond we form. It makes it easier to make you forget, later.
You won' make me forget, right? I don' wanna forget!
You won't, she assured him. I won't touch your memories.
He believed her.
By now she had taken more blood, not any more than a tablespoon or so, but enough so that the rapture was pounding through him. He could feel his body beginning to respond, as his hands moved more urgently over his body.
When she had taken enough, she pulled her head away from his neck Quickly; she bit into her tongue, piercing a small hole in the tip. A drop of blood welled up from the hole. Bending over, she swirled the drop over the holes in his neck. They healed instantly.
He was distantly aware that she had done something to his neck, but his mind could not focus on it. He knew she was no longer feeding, no longer giving him the rapture, but it did not matter. He could take control of what she started. His hands moved, going between her legs and gently stroking her.
She had felt his own excitement and pleasure through the bond and the taste of his blood. Now, with his fingers touching her most intimate places, she could feel the heat spreading through her. "Oh, Remy," she murmured. Unable to stop, she fell back on the bed, spreading her legs further apart.
He moved closer, propping himself up on one arm, and continued stroking her, lightly running his finger the length of her, teasing at the softness between her thighs, urging her further, feeling her slick wetness. "You like dis?" he teased, pausing the ball of his finger rubbing the tip of the most sensitive area.
"Yessss," she hissed, arching her hips, waves of pleasure rolling through her. Her eyes were closed as if trying to block out all stimulation so she could concentrate fully on the magic of his fingers as they moved over her. It had been a long time since someone did this for her, cared about her pleasure as well as his. Usually the rapture was enough for both of them. With a mind of their own, her hand moved over him, attempting to discover if he was feeling as aroused as she was. When she closed her fingers around the length of him, feeling it growing, thickening in her grasp, she moaned again. "Oh God, I want you,"
"I wan' you too, Chere," he murmured. He stopped his fingers, moving his hand over to hers, gently removing it. Before she could protest, he rolled over so he was on top of her.
"Yes," she whispered, her eyes opening, growing wide with delight as she realized what was going to happen. She spread her legs further apart, raising her knees.
Propping himself on his elbows, he moved so just the tip was at her opening, teasing her. She squirmed beneath him, trying to get more of him inside her, but he resisted. "Look at me," he whispered.
She opened her eyes, looking at him, his gaze locking with hers. For a moment it seemed as if she was lost in a sea of red and black, fire and onyx. Her own eyes widened. "I want it," she said, her voice penetrating the darkness. "I want to feel you become a part of me."
With one thrust of his hips, he slid fully into her, their bodies meeting. His arms tightened around her and he paused, loosing himself in the feeling of being fully inside her, their bodies pressed together as if trying to melt into each other. Leaning down, he kissed her fully on the lips. She kissed him back, her tongue moving to find his, twirling around it.
When their kiss ended, he began moving in and out of her, slowly, wanting to savor the sweetness of it, wanting to feel every bit and memorize it. She moved her hips to meet him. Slowly, they embarked upon this lovers dance, as old as time. "You feel so good," he whispered into her ear.
"S-so do you," she managed to respond, her fingers moving down his back, pressing into his buttocks to get him further inside her.
Unlike the night before, there was no sense of urgency with this union. While the ecstasy was flowing between them, they could control it, rather than have it control them. He moved slowly within her, feeling the sensations riding through him, wanting to give her the same pleasure she had given him earlier.
Clinging to him, she let him ride her through two delicious waves of pure joy. This is what it all comes down to, she thought as the second wave overtook her, causing her body to stiffen, her legs to press into his thighs. This man-woman thing, this physical act that creates us and binds us to one another. This is what mortals do because they cannot share the blood. They share the bodies. She kissed his neck, where she had earlier taken blood, with almost bruising force.
He began to move a bit faster, as his own excitement began flowing through him faster. Though there was a part of him that wanted this to last forever, this union of two bodies, melding into one, he knew it could not. "Don' know "
"Yesss," she hissed into his ear. "Come to me, lover."
Her words drove him over the edge. Pulling back so he was almost completely out of her, he thrust forward, sealing himself inside her with one firm stroke and exploded, sending wave after wave inside her. He felt her own muscles tighten a third time, gripping him tightly inside her as her back arched. "Rhiannon!" he cried, his face screwed up in an expression of pleasure.
"Remy!" she gasped, wrapping her legs around his waist, trapping him inside her. Her arms closed around his back, pressing him to her. Unable to stop, he collapsed on top of her, feeling her body quivering as his own was.
For several minutes they lay there together, unable to move, just enjoying the feeling of being close, their sweat mingling. She buried her face into his neck again, inhaling the scent of him, the scent of their union heavy on both of them. She licked along his neck, the salty taste of sweat and passion filling her mouth.
When his excitement finally ebbed into an afterglow of mellow calm, he slipped out of her, falling back on the mattress. "Oh," he murmured, looking up at the roof, staring out the window at the early morning light that shone down, illuminating both of them.
"Oh?" she asked, her voice sounding strange and thick to her own ears.
"Oh," he repeated.
"Oh, yeahhhhh," she said, stretching her body out, curling her toes.
He chuckled and rolled on his side, gathering her in his arms and burying his face in her hair, inhaling the scent of it. "Good morning, Darkstar," he whispered into her ear.
She smiled. "Good morning, Remy," she said, reaching out to touch his face, stroking his cheek gently.
He reached up and took her hand in his own, curling his fingers around it. There were still so many things he wanted to know about her, more questions he wanted to ask, but not now. For now it was just enough to be close to her, to have his arms around her and their bodies pressed together.
Not even bothering with the covers, they both drifted off to sleep, holding each other.
Author's Notes:
Er, :::she wrote, blushing slightly:::: Uh, this was probably the hardest part to write so far. While sex is something everyon thinks about, it is not very easy to bring it across on paper.
I am sorry if it offened anyone. I tried very hard to keep it from getting completely pornographic while still being graphic enough. I hope I succeeded.
If you liked it, let me know. If you think it was unimportant to the story, let me know. I have a feeling there could be several times in this story, where this sort of situation could come up. It would be nice to know if readers want to see it described in detail, or if they would just prefer I kept it along the lines of, "They made love and damn, was it good!"
Thanks and
Blessings
JF Jackson