“Secrets of Darkness”

Dane knocked lightly on the door, fidgeting uncomfortably. After a few moments of silence, she cracked the door open and peered in, her hand slipping around the doorjamb to toggle the light switch several times. No light came on despite her insistent flicking of the switch, and with a sigh, she stepped into the room. When her eyes dilated enough to make out the unfamiliar surroundings, she made the brilliant observation that the reason there was no light was most likely because there was no bulb in the socket. She shook her head and closed the door behind her to block out the blinding glare of the hallway, then glanced around.

Not home, she concluded after sweeping her playful green eyes around the dark room, but that’s no reason I can’t take a little look around. Everybody’s go secrets and I’m sure he’s no exception.

A sly little smile tugged at the edges of her lips, and she moved stealthily through the room, glancing here and there and using her hands when the weak starlight filtering in through the window fail to help her identify an object of her curiosity. After a few minutes of casual exploration, Dane gave in to overwhelming desire and sat on the edge of the bed, sweeping her long-fingered hands over the midnight-black silk sheets.

The boy’s got some taste, she grinned, then glanced up nervously at a soft noise and licked her lips. Maybe I should go… I’m not supposed to be here, and if I get caught like this… Shrugging her trepidation off quickly as a dog shakes off cold water, Dane leaned back onto the bed and shifted, staring absently out the window at the night sky. Damn, these things are cold… how does he sleep like this? Her eyes began to slip shut in spite of the chill silk and her fear of getting caught.

The edge of the bed sank down suddenly, and Dane bolted upright, her eyes wide and without and trace of sleepiness. “Cale!”

The man at the end of the bed regarded her for a moment, then a feral smile slashed white through the dark, and he shifted closer. “Comfortable?”

Dane’s thoughts jittered wildly as she searched for some sort of excuse, and her eyes flickered in every direction, trying not to meet his gaze though her mind easily provided the image of what they might look like and what sort of emotion might be gathering there. She trembled with… with what? Is it fear… or something else? She let her eyes rest on his smile, then grinned easily back. Something else. Definitely something else.

She lay down again, tucking one hand behind her head in the long strands of coarse hair that nearly matched the sheets, and gesturing to him with the other. “I’m quite comfortable, in fact. Would you care to join me?”

Dane was fairly alarmed when she realized the man at the end of the bed was growling softly. “Uh…”

Whatever she had been about to say was violently cut off as the man pounced down over her and pinned both wrists above her head in a single fluid motion. Wolf-like grace, she thought and suppressed a giggle, trying to squirm herself out of this interesting—yet somewhat frightening—position. He was still growling, and with growing panic, Dane wondered if he was going to bite her.

“Cale?” she said softly, trying to keep the rising whine of fear—excitement?—out of her voice. He paused, and she could feel him trembling . She took a shaky breath and considered all the things she could say in this one still moment while she still had his attention.

When those large green eyes reopened, she smiled slightly, and had only had one thing to say, for while she knew it was wrong, she could not resist.

“Take me.”

His grip on her wrists tightened, making her writhe and hiss with pain. She blinked, and his face was so close that she could kiss the scar that crossed his cheek—if she dared. “What makes you think I wasn’t going to do that anyway?”

Completely unnerved and with all semblance of control being snatched away, Dane whimpered and gave one last frantic, futile attempt at wresting her arms away from him. After a few moments, she lay calm again, tired by her efforts and panting: I suppose I should not try to fight… Perhaps I make it worse.

The man above her almost seemed amused by her struggles. “First you ask for something, then you change your mind and refuse it. I’m sure if I wait another moment or two, you will be all to accommodating again.” As he spoke, he shifted to hold both her hands under only one of his—noticing that she did not use this time to try to escape—and caressed her cheek with one finger.

She shivered and bit her lip, trying not to lean into touch; one of her captive hands twisted fingers deeply into the silk. She wasn’t entirely sure if she was supposed to respond to this teasing touch, or if he would react violently again. She shivered again, and unable to withstand temptation, she turned her head and ran her tongue lightly along the callused length of his finger, nipping gently at the tip.

The shadow above her shifted, and she glanced fearfully out of the corner of her eyes and half-jerked back, but instead of inflicting more pain, he merely pressed the finger to her lips as if offering more.

Dane regained some composure and smirked, taking what was offered into her mouth and sucking softly, teasingly slipping her tongue around it. She purred as she moved her lips over it, alternating between kissing, licking, and sucking, her full attention devoted to dedicating taste, texture, and scent to memory. Her eyes slipped half-shut in pleasure.

The man pulled back suddenly, and as he did so, he pressed harder against her wrists again. Her cry of pain was smothered quickly by his lips against hers, his tongue sliding easily into her surprise-slackened mouth. After a second of startled motionlessness, she pushed eagerly back, arching her whole body up to meet him. She felt his movements and breath speed up as their tongues wrestled, and felt his whole body shake with eagerness.

After a few minutes, he pulled back, sucking softly on her lower lip. Dane leaned up into him, only to violently jarred back into place by a quick, sharp bite to her lip. The salty, metallic taste of blood filled her mouth, and she looked up with wide, tear-filled eyes and whimpered softly.

She found no mercy in his gleaming eyes, only a cold hunger that made her cringe and wish she could melt into the sheets, and at the same time, strangely drew her closer to him. He kissed her again briefly, and then slipped his one free hand under her shirt and across the sensitive skin of her stomach, drawing soft, kittenish noises from her abused lips. She tossed her head back as his mouth slid delicately across her exposed throat; she wasn’t sure how much more she could take, and she knew that he was not likely to stop now.

Not so sure I want him to stop now anyway… She pushed up against the vice-like grip still holding her wrists firmly above her head. Her arms and shoulders ached from the pressure, and she was certainly going to have unmistakable bruises around each wrist even if she managed to escape without him breaking anything, which was a possibility she was strongly beginning to consider. In spite of this, she did not want him to let her go and welcomed the pain. No one had ever treated her like this, and no one else was likely to.

“Cale,” she gasped, and she felt him pause a minute to consider her. Her normally wide, feigning-innocence eyes were narrowed and soft, her breath came in quiet pants, and she knew—somehow, she knew—that that was exactly what he wanted to see. Complete submission to him, she thought, and pressed her hungry lips to his again. Complete submission and complete willingness.

She felt him pull away from her and she flinched again, but even in the darkness it was clear that he was pleased.