writing fever
so yeah, i've spent quite a few hours the past few days adding to Ana's saga. quite a good piece this one is, and it almost stands alone. And if you think i own anyone but Ana, you've spent too much time with your head in a cauldron. enjoy, and comment! :-)
The snow was falling softly. Christmas Eve was upon us, and the inside of the castle was just too convivial. I was walking out on the battlements, when I came upon him. He was just standing there, still as a statue, looking out on the landscape. I had been avoiding him for almost a month.
“Ana, where are we?” he asked with a sigh.
“What do you mean where are we? Do you mean geographically, or metaphysically?” I countered, on my guard.
“I mean, where are we? You and I. Where do I stand with you? What do I do to make things right?” he turned towards me.
“I don’t know. Where are you with her?”
He looked at me with a sad expression. “Where am I with her? She refuses to see me. If I want to see my son, either you or Albus has to be there because she refuses to be anywhere near me; and she won’t leave me alone with the boy. I’ve been shunned by nearly all of my fellows. The one person I should be able to talk to the most has been avoiding me. Now that you’re here, I need to know, where are we?”
“ I wouldn’t ask you to give up what I thought you had, I would never in a million years ask you to leave them. But, I take it she does not want you as a partner. That much is obvious. If you had to choose between Kate and I, not counting Aiden, who would you choose?”
“ She does not want me, but if saying that I choose you meant that I would have to give up my son, I would not do it.”
“I am not asking you to give him up. I love you too much to do that to you. A child needs their father.” I said leaning close. He put his arms around my shoulders, sheltering me in his cloak and his head resting on mine. My hand shot out and into his clothing.
“But these are mine, if I am what you choose. You swore, before everything holy that you would honor that promise. Break it again, and they’ll be just another specimen in a jar on your office wall.” I loosened my grip.
“Yes ma’am.” He gasped.
“Yes who?” I clenched my fingers.
“Yes Ana.”
“Yes who? Last time I checked I was still married to you.” I said, my hand making a very persuasive motion.
“Yes Madam Snape?”
“There you go. Remember that. Now, where do we go from here?” I asked, removing my hand from parts well known.
He swallowed, the blood rushing back into his pale face. “Well, geographically we’re on the western wall of the castle. Twenty yards south, there is a stairwell that leads back towards the Serpens Towers. And I’m personally freezing my ears off out here. Will that do for now?” He asked, stroking my hair.
“For now,” I sighed leaning my head against his chest. We stood there together for what seemed like hours, not wanting to move, to break the stillness and the peace of the falling snow. Eventually my body temperature subsided to its normal freezing state and I started shivering.
“We’d better go in, I could hear your teeth chattering even if I couldn’t feel you trembling like a first year,” he said, wrapping me tighter under his cloak. After just a few minutes in the cold we were enclosed within the relative warmth of the stairwell. I looked up at him.
“You have a baby icicle hanging on your nose. How long were you out there?” I gasped, still shivering.
“About two hours, if you must know,” he admitted sheepishly. We walked down the stairs as if we were walking on eggshells, terrified of making a wrong move. We reached the door of Serpens Caput without saying another word.
“Ah-hrm,” he cleared his throat softly, “Would you like to come in for something to warm you up? Ah. To drink I mean.” He bit his lip. It was so endearing a sight that I smiled at him, truly smiled for the first time in years. He grinned back and opened the door, bowing me in. The room had changed little in the years since I had last occupied it. There were a few new books (mostly on infant care) and a new blanket strewn across the sofa. I recognized it as my grandmother’s handiwork, as I had never come across those particular crochet combinations anywhere else. I stooped over and picked it up.
“Gran sent you this didn’t she?” I asked quietly. He sat down next to where I was standing.
“I asked her advice on what I should do. How-how I should approach you. When she learned what exactly what had happened, she sent this. For him. For Aiden.” He looked up with tears in his eyes. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have left it out. I’ll put it away.” He started to stand to do so. I put my hand on his chest, forcing him back down. We both looked at each other for one burning moment before our lips met. There was such force in the meeting that I could taste the salty sweet tears and the tang of blood from his chapped lips. Shaking I withdrew a few inches, my hands twined in the front of his robes. Panting to catch my breath I just looked at him and he concentrated his every effort into tucking a wayward curl behind my ear.
“I love you more than anyone else on this planet, save that little boy. I would be more devastated to lose you again than you could ever imagine. I would do anything, even forsake him to know that you are mine,” he stuttered, tears streaming down his face as his hands shook. I unclasped my cloak and let it slide off my shoulders. Trembling, I pulled his head onto my breast and just held him as he wept. His arms wrapped around my waist as I stroked his hair, rubbing behind his ear.
“Oh my Love,” I murmured into his hair, “I’m home.”
For a long while we stayed like that, just holding on to each other, breathing. When his breath began to quiet down, I sank slowly into his lap, relaxing into his arms. I let my head rest just in the curve of his shoulder, my forehead against his neck.
“I missed you,” I whispered into his ear, the tip of my nose touching the soft spot just below and behind it. My lips brushed the spot, just above a small curl on his hairline. I could feel his arms tense and his breath hitch. I did it again, lingering ever so slightly longer this time. He let out a small grunt, but kept himself still. My right hand moved from being curled in his hair to delicately trace the line of his other ear. I kissed the back of the closer one, my breath moving a couple of stray hairs to tickle my nose. In an instant he had me pinned to the sofa his arms still around me, one hand stroking my hair, the other one gently cupping my hip. His left foot was on the floor while his right knee was between mine, pinning my dress to the seat.
“You’re playing with fire little girl,” he growled tauntingly, moving his left hand down to flick open the top button of my dress. I squirmed, the fabric moving on its own as I did so, revealing the chain laying across my chest. At the end of it was the locket he had given me, with the only surviving photographs of our infants and a lock of hair from each of them. His fingers teased the chain upwards, revealing the locket hidden between my breasts. His eyes widened.
“You kept it. Without even reading the note, you kept it?” His mouth hung open in amazement.
“Of course I kept it. I’ve kept everything you’ve ever given me, now who’s playing with fire?” I brought his head down and kissed him thoroughly, arching my back so he could feel every inch of me against him. His right hand snaked around my back, holding me close.
“Not here,” he panted. “Not down where people might bother us.”
“In other words not down here where somebody could fall off the couch onto the floor!” I taunted him, unbuttoning another button on my blouse. He leaned in close to my face when I stood up.
“Get upstairs and get nekked woman!” he growled in a bad imitation of an American Southern accent, accompanying the last word with a smack to my rear.
“Well fuck you!” I shouted, barely stifling the laughter. He had me backing towards the stairs at a quick trot. He squared his shoulders when I stood on the bottom step laughing. I let out a playful shriek as he unbuckled his belt and pulled it loose. For once he wasn’t wearing his buttoned down jacket that looks like he bought it at a reverend’s jumble sale. His black robes were in a puddle by the foot of the sofa, the jacket that matched his olive khaki trousers was tossed over the back of a chair and he was standing there with a wicked grin on his face rolling up the sleeves of his maroon shirt with the belt slung over one shoulder, complimenting the straps of the braces that were still holding his trousers up.
“If you don’t get up those stairs, I’m going to have to carry you,” he growled playfully.
“Oh, I’m so scared,” I tossed one high heeled shoe at him.
“Don’t throw that!” he caught my wrist as I was going to throw the second shoe over his shoulder. One stocking foot slipped on the worn stone and I fell against him. The belt took the opportunity to slip off his shoulder onto the floor as I was held against him. In one swift movement he had scooped me off my feet and tossed me over one shoulder like a sack of potatoes.
“Hey! I can walk you know!”
“I know you can walk, but you weren’t, you were throwing things! Oooph! Oi, stop struggling. A few inches lower and you’d be on your ass right now.” He pinched that part of my anatomy and gave it a swat. He carried me up the stairs two at a time up to the private library before putting me down.
“You could have at least carried me the romantic way,” I pouted sashaying closer. I put my thumbs through his belt loops pulling him closer. He undid the last two buttons on my bodice, spreading the fabric from shoulder to shoulder.
“What color would you say your brassiere is?” he asked, cocking his head to one side.
“Tangerine.”
“Hrm, best fruit basket I’ve ever seen.” He bent over and kissed my neck. As he did so he ran his hands down my sides and pulled my hips closer. I wrapped my arms around his shoulders and he picked me up, resting my thighs on his hips.
“Take me to bed,” I whispered in his ear, locking my ankles together as I leaned in to his chest. He carried me into the bedroom and set me on the bed, kneeling on the bench at the end of it. His hands ran down the outsides of my legs, teasing my skirt higher with each inch. Once he reached the hem and slid up the inner sides, unlatching the straps of my garters as they roamed upwards and outwards. I unbuckled the belt of the dress enabling him to pull it off over my head along with the full length slip. When he reached my hips he unhooked the garter belt and pulled it loose. His hands did a searching double take and he left off kissing my neck and breasts when he didn’t find what he was looking for. One black eye looked out at me as the other was hidden behind a curtain of hair.
“You’re not wearing any knickers.”
“Never said I was.” I pulled my dress off over my shoulders myself. “Any other comments about what I am, or am not wearing?”
“Yes, how do I unhook this thing?” he asked looking at the front clasp on my bra.
“I love you.” I chuckled as I opened it with a flick of the fingers, astounding him once again at how easily I opened something that he was never able to figure out. “You’re turn, love. Or my turn rather. Come here.” I started unbuttoning his shirt. When I got to the waist band I tugged the tails out the front. With the last button I slid my hands up his chest and over his shoulders, dislodging the suspender straps as he shrugged out of his shirt. He was gazing at me the entire time.
“You are the most beautiful creature,” he said in a tone of breathless awe. “Am I allowed to finish undressing myself?” he grabbed the waistband of his pants out of my hands. He unbuckled and then kicked out of his boots. One sock was blue and the other was green. I couldn’t help it, I giggled. In response I got a somewhat put out “What?!”
“I’m sorry, I couldn’t help it, but your socks . . . !” He looked down.
“Oh. I’ve been a little bit distracted lately.” He said as his pants were undone and about to fall down, revealing a tantalizing glimpse of the silk boxers I had given him our first Christmas together. I knew for a fact that the things had a hole along one seam and the hem of one leg had been falling out. Yet like a man, he kept wearing them because they were special to him, even though they were almost more hole than underwear and very thin in certain places.
“Come here.” He let the trousers fall and the poor boxers looked to be in sadder shape than I had last seen them. He took off his socks without saying a word, then came over and kneeled on the bench again. I took his face in my hands and kissed him, soft and tender at first, becoming more demanding as time wore on.
“Let your hair down,” he panted as soon as we broke apart. I reached up and pulled out the wooden hairfork and shook my head to release a cascade of curls that reached all the way down to my hips. “My Gods, you are beautiful” he whispered, awestruck. The pupils of his eyes had dilated so much that the firelight glinted on his irises like flecks of mica. I leaned in and bit his lower lip.
“Lay back darling, I’ll catch you.” He slid his arms down my back as I did so. His right hand slid under my knees and brought my calves forward. He kissed me deeply as that hand moved back up, nudging my knees apart, caressing my inner thigh, tracing the creases at the top. I curled towards him with a whimper. He shook his head and eased my hip back. With a flick of the wrist, I could feel every inch of one of his fingers and I gasped. It twitched, eliciting a strangled “oh!” It wriggled and I writhed. One of its mates joined it and I moaned. I opened my eyes to see the pair of black ones gazing back, the brows raised, questioning. Then the fingers wriggled, again eliciting a strangled noise somewhere between a moan and a whine.
“Fuck me,” I panted.
He shook his head and kissed along my jaw, and down my neck. He nuzzled between my breasts for a moment and kissed each of them tenderly. “I’ll be back for you. You too,” he promised each of them, before continuing south. A trail of kisses down my belly, another nuzzle to my navel before he shouldered my knees further apart. I could see a wicked gleam in those dark eyes before he lowered his head. He kissed there the same way he had my mouth, soft and tender at first, becoming more and more forceful as he went. Writhing and moaning I twined my fingers in his hair. His hands found mine and loosened my fingers when they became too tight. He drew back and set his cheek on my leg.
“I thought you were going to break my nose for a moment there,” he grinned.
“Please,” I found breath to ask.
“As you wish, but first these are going to have to come off,” he said, peeling my stockings off. “As are these,” he said, stepping out of his boxers. Silhouetted in the firelight, I could see the halo of downy fuzz blanketing his shoulder and buttocks, making the pale skin glow like moonlight. He crawled across the bed toward me and lay down parallel.
“Have I told you how beautiful you are and how much I love you?” he asked stroking my side, resting his hand on my hip.
“You have, but tell me again anyway.” I brushed a lock out of his eyes.
“You are the most exquisite being I have ever seen. So beautiful I cannot find words . . .” I brushed my fingers across his lips.
“Show me.” My knee moved up his thigh, my toes tickling behind his knee. His hand came around my hip, cupping my rear as his leg moved up, pushing my knee over his hip. My hand moved down, gently guiding. His breath caught and I closed my eyes with a guttural “OH!” as he entered. For a moment, we just lay there breathing before he rocked his hips, pulling me in deeper.
“I love you,” he gasped huskily. I nodded.
“I know.” I moved my hip sideways. He braced my back with both arms and rolled onto his own bringing me up above him. When I straightened, my hair hung down , tickling his stomach. I rocked my hips forward and back loosening my lower back. Forward, back, forward, back, around to the right, front, back around to the left, over and over again reminiscent of a belly dancing move quaintly called “the camel.” He grunted. I did hip circles. He groaned. I shimmied. He moaned and stilled my hips with his hands as he arched his back and sat up.
“I have no words for how lovely you are,” he growled as he pulled me in close. We sat there, connected, breathing one another’s breath for a moment. I could feel his heartbeat both under my hand and inside of myself, throbbing, matching pace with my own. He reached out and pulled a few pillows over into a pile beside and a little behind him.
“I’m going to show you how much you mean to me. Put your arms around my shoulders.” He rolled over making sure there were plenty of pillows for me to lean against. The back of his right hand traced down my side, tickling, caressing and finally holding firm to my hip. He brought the same knee out, moving my leg higher up his waist. His left arm was taut with muscle, bracing his entire body up. He rocked his hip again, pulling me closer.
“You are mine,” he rumbled deep in his chest. He kissed me again, all gentleness gone from his touch, rough, forceful, commanding, and not a bit unpleasant.
“As you are mine.” I nipped his lip, tasted blood, matching force for force. He brought his right hand up to clasp my left and leaned on the elbow. He then brought his other arm in to grab mine. He balanced his weight on those elbows and knees. He rocked back and pushed forward, growing ever more forceful. I arched my back against him. He brought my hands above my head, leaning closer.
“Don’t ever leave me again,” he gasped into my ear. The tears mingled with the sweat running down his nose to drip on me. “I couldn’t bear it,” he sobbed, pushing deeper, harder, faster.
I whimpered, moaned “Never. I’ll never leave you.” My body shuddered of its own volition. He nodded his breath coming faster. His movements became stilted, jerking.
“OH GODS! I missed you!” He arched his back and slowly rocked back and forth, his arms shaking. He slowed and then slowly sank to the side, my hips rolling with him. He somehow laid his head on my breast and cried. Simple, unabashed tears of joy, fear, release. When he started to snuffle I reached for a tissue.
“Honey, I love you. I’ll take any of your bodily fluids, but if you snot on my bare breast, so help me god . . .” I chuckled as I handed him the tissue. He blew his nose, sounding like a goose. He then curled right back up with his head on one breast, a hand gently cupping the other, gave it a squeeze, mumbled “mine,” into my chest and fell asleep. I was finally home where I belonged.
The snow was falling softly. Christmas Eve was upon us, and the inside of the castle was just too convivial. I was walking out on the battlements, when I came upon him. He was just standing there, still as a statue, looking out on the landscape. I had been avoiding him for almost a month.
“Ana, where are we?” he asked with a sigh.
“What do you mean where are we? Do you mean geographically, or metaphysically?” I countered, on my guard.
“I mean, where are we? You and I. Where do I stand with you? What do I do to make things right?” he turned towards me.
“I don’t know. Where are you with her?”
He looked at me with a sad expression. “Where am I with her? She refuses to see me. If I want to see my son, either you or Albus has to be there because she refuses to be anywhere near me; and she won’t leave me alone with the boy. I’ve been shunned by nearly all of my fellows. The one person I should be able to talk to the most has been avoiding me. Now that you’re here, I need to know, where are we?”
“ I wouldn’t ask you to give up what I thought you had, I would never in a million years ask you to leave them. But, I take it she does not want you as a partner. That much is obvious. If you had to choose between Kate and I, not counting Aiden, who would you choose?”
“ She does not want me, but if saying that I choose you meant that I would have to give up my son, I would not do it.”
“I am not asking you to give him up. I love you too much to do that to you. A child needs their father.” I said leaning close. He put his arms around my shoulders, sheltering me in his cloak and his head resting on mine. My hand shot out and into his clothing.
“But these are mine, if I am what you choose. You swore, before everything holy that you would honor that promise. Break it again, and they’ll be just another specimen in a jar on your office wall.” I loosened my grip.
“Yes ma’am.” He gasped.
“Yes who?” I clenched my fingers.
“Yes Ana.”
“Yes who? Last time I checked I was still married to you.” I said, my hand making a very persuasive motion.
“Yes Madam Snape?”
“There you go. Remember that. Now, where do we go from here?” I asked, removing my hand from parts well known.
He swallowed, the blood rushing back into his pale face. “Well, geographically we’re on the western wall of the castle. Twenty yards south, there is a stairwell that leads back towards the Serpens Towers. And I’m personally freezing my ears off out here. Will that do for now?” He asked, stroking my hair.
“For now,” I sighed leaning my head against his chest. We stood there together for what seemed like hours, not wanting to move, to break the stillness and the peace of the falling snow. Eventually my body temperature subsided to its normal freezing state and I started shivering.
“We’d better go in, I could hear your teeth chattering even if I couldn’t feel you trembling like a first year,” he said, wrapping me tighter under his cloak. After just a few minutes in the cold we were enclosed within the relative warmth of the stairwell. I looked up at him.
“You have a baby icicle hanging on your nose. How long were you out there?” I gasped, still shivering.
“About two hours, if you must know,” he admitted sheepishly. We walked down the stairs as if we were walking on eggshells, terrified of making a wrong move. We reached the door of Serpens Caput without saying another word.
“Ah-hrm,” he cleared his throat softly, “Would you like to come in for something to warm you up? Ah. To drink I mean.” He bit his lip. It was so endearing a sight that I smiled at him, truly smiled for the first time in years. He grinned back and opened the door, bowing me in. The room had changed little in the years since I had last occupied it. There were a few new books (mostly on infant care) and a new blanket strewn across the sofa. I recognized it as my grandmother’s handiwork, as I had never come across those particular crochet combinations anywhere else. I stooped over and picked it up.
“Gran sent you this didn’t she?” I asked quietly. He sat down next to where I was standing.
“I asked her advice on what I should do. How-how I should approach you. When she learned what exactly what had happened, she sent this. For him. For Aiden.” He looked up with tears in his eyes. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have left it out. I’ll put it away.” He started to stand to do so. I put my hand on his chest, forcing him back down. We both looked at each other for one burning moment before our lips met. There was such force in the meeting that I could taste the salty sweet tears and the tang of blood from his chapped lips. Shaking I withdrew a few inches, my hands twined in the front of his robes. Panting to catch my breath I just looked at him and he concentrated his every effort into tucking a wayward curl behind my ear.
“I love you more than anyone else on this planet, save that little boy. I would be more devastated to lose you again than you could ever imagine. I would do anything, even forsake him to know that you are mine,” he stuttered, tears streaming down his face as his hands shook. I unclasped my cloak and let it slide off my shoulders. Trembling, I pulled his head onto my breast and just held him as he wept. His arms wrapped around my waist as I stroked his hair, rubbing behind his ear.
“Oh my Love,” I murmured into his hair, “I’m home.”
For a long while we stayed like that, just holding on to each other, breathing. When his breath began to quiet down, I sank slowly into his lap, relaxing into his arms. I let my head rest just in the curve of his shoulder, my forehead against his neck.
“I missed you,” I whispered into his ear, the tip of my nose touching the soft spot just below and behind it. My lips brushed the spot, just above a small curl on his hairline. I could feel his arms tense and his breath hitch. I did it again, lingering ever so slightly longer this time. He let out a small grunt, but kept himself still. My right hand moved from being curled in his hair to delicately trace the line of his other ear. I kissed the back of the closer one, my breath moving a couple of stray hairs to tickle my nose. In an instant he had me pinned to the sofa his arms still around me, one hand stroking my hair, the other one gently cupping my hip. His left foot was on the floor while his right knee was between mine, pinning my dress to the seat.
“You’re playing with fire little girl,” he growled tauntingly, moving his left hand down to flick open the top button of my dress. I squirmed, the fabric moving on its own as I did so, revealing the chain laying across my chest. At the end of it was the locket he had given me, with the only surviving photographs of our infants and a lock of hair from each of them. His fingers teased the chain upwards, revealing the locket hidden between my breasts. His eyes widened.
“You kept it. Without even reading the note, you kept it?” His mouth hung open in amazement.
“Of course I kept it. I’ve kept everything you’ve ever given me, now who’s playing with fire?” I brought his head down and kissed him thoroughly, arching my back so he could feel every inch of me against him. His right hand snaked around my back, holding me close.
“Not here,” he panted. “Not down where people might bother us.”
“In other words not down here where somebody could fall off the couch onto the floor!” I taunted him, unbuttoning another button on my blouse. He leaned in close to my face when I stood up.
“Get upstairs and get nekked woman!” he growled in a bad imitation of an American Southern accent, accompanying the last word with a smack to my rear.
“Well fuck you!” I shouted, barely stifling the laughter. He had me backing towards the stairs at a quick trot. He squared his shoulders when I stood on the bottom step laughing. I let out a playful shriek as he unbuckled his belt and pulled it loose. For once he wasn’t wearing his buttoned down jacket that looks like he bought it at a reverend’s jumble sale. His black robes were in a puddle by the foot of the sofa, the jacket that matched his olive khaki trousers was tossed over the back of a chair and he was standing there with a wicked grin on his face rolling up the sleeves of his maroon shirt with the belt slung over one shoulder, complimenting the straps of the braces that were still holding his trousers up.
“If you don’t get up those stairs, I’m going to have to carry you,” he growled playfully.
“Oh, I’m so scared,” I tossed one high heeled shoe at him.
“Don’t throw that!” he caught my wrist as I was going to throw the second shoe over his shoulder. One stocking foot slipped on the worn stone and I fell against him. The belt took the opportunity to slip off his shoulder onto the floor as I was held against him. In one swift movement he had scooped me off my feet and tossed me over one shoulder like a sack of potatoes.
“Hey! I can walk you know!”
“I know you can walk, but you weren’t, you were throwing things! Oooph! Oi, stop struggling. A few inches lower and you’d be on your ass right now.” He pinched that part of my anatomy and gave it a swat. He carried me up the stairs two at a time up to the private library before putting me down.
“You could have at least carried me the romantic way,” I pouted sashaying closer. I put my thumbs through his belt loops pulling him closer. He undid the last two buttons on my bodice, spreading the fabric from shoulder to shoulder.
“What color would you say your brassiere is?” he asked, cocking his head to one side.
“Tangerine.”
“Hrm, best fruit basket I’ve ever seen.” He bent over and kissed my neck. As he did so he ran his hands down my sides and pulled my hips closer. I wrapped my arms around his shoulders and he picked me up, resting my thighs on his hips.
“Take me to bed,” I whispered in his ear, locking my ankles together as I leaned in to his chest. He carried me into the bedroom and set me on the bed, kneeling on the bench at the end of it. His hands ran down the outsides of my legs, teasing my skirt higher with each inch. Once he reached the hem and slid up the inner sides, unlatching the straps of my garters as they roamed upwards and outwards. I unbuckled the belt of the dress enabling him to pull it off over my head along with the full length slip. When he reached my hips he unhooked the garter belt and pulled it loose. His hands did a searching double take and he left off kissing my neck and breasts when he didn’t find what he was looking for. One black eye looked out at me as the other was hidden behind a curtain of hair.
“You’re not wearing any knickers.”
“Never said I was.” I pulled my dress off over my shoulders myself. “Any other comments about what I am, or am not wearing?”
“Yes, how do I unhook this thing?” he asked looking at the front clasp on my bra.
“I love you.” I chuckled as I opened it with a flick of the fingers, astounding him once again at how easily I opened something that he was never able to figure out. “You’re turn, love. Or my turn rather. Come here.” I started unbuttoning his shirt. When I got to the waist band I tugged the tails out the front. With the last button I slid my hands up his chest and over his shoulders, dislodging the suspender straps as he shrugged out of his shirt. He was gazing at me the entire time.
“You are the most beautiful creature,” he said in a tone of breathless awe. “Am I allowed to finish undressing myself?” he grabbed the waistband of his pants out of my hands. He unbuckled and then kicked out of his boots. One sock was blue and the other was green. I couldn’t help it, I giggled. In response I got a somewhat put out “What?!”
“I’m sorry, I couldn’t help it, but your socks . . . !” He looked down.
“Oh. I’ve been a little bit distracted lately.” He said as his pants were undone and about to fall down, revealing a tantalizing glimpse of the silk boxers I had given him our first Christmas together. I knew for a fact that the things had a hole along one seam and the hem of one leg had been falling out. Yet like a man, he kept wearing them because they were special to him, even though they were almost more hole than underwear and very thin in certain places.
“Come here.” He let the trousers fall and the poor boxers looked to be in sadder shape than I had last seen them. He took off his socks without saying a word, then came over and kneeled on the bench again. I took his face in my hands and kissed him, soft and tender at first, becoming more demanding as time wore on.
“Let your hair down,” he panted as soon as we broke apart. I reached up and pulled out the wooden hairfork and shook my head to release a cascade of curls that reached all the way down to my hips. “My Gods, you are beautiful” he whispered, awestruck. The pupils of his eyes had dilated so much that the firelight glinted on his irises like flecks of mica. I leaned in and bit his lower lip.
“Lay back darling, I’ll catch you.” He slid his arms down my back as I did so. His right hand slid under my knees and brought my calves forward. He kissed me deeply as that hand moved back up, nudging my knees apart, caressing my inner thigh, tracing the creases at the top. I curled towards him with a whimper. He shook his head and eased my hip back. With a flick of the wrist, I could feel every inch of one of his fingers and I gasped. It twitched, eliciting a strangled “oh!” It wriggled and I writhed. One of its mates joined it and I moaned. I opened my eyes to see the pair of black ones gazing back, the brows raised, questioning. Then the fingers wriggled, again eliciting a strangled noise somewhere between a moan and a whine.
“Fuck me,” I panted.
He shook his head and kissed along my jaw, and down my neck. He nuzzled between my breasts for a moment and kissed each of them tenderly. “I’ll be back for you. You too,” he promised each of them, before continuing south. A trail of kisses down my belly, another nuzzle to my navel before he shouldered my knees further apart. I could see a wicked gleam in those dark eyes before he lowered his head. He kissed there the same way he had my mouth, soft and tender at first, becoming more and more forceful as he went. Writhing and moaning I twined my fingers in his hair. His hands found mine and loosened my fingers when they became too tight. He drew back and set his cheek on my leg.
“I thought you were going to break my nose for a moment there,” he grinned.
“Please,” I found breath to ask.
“As you wish, but first these are going to have to come off,” he said, peeling my stockings off. “As are these,” he said, stepping out of his boxers. Silhouetted in the firelight, I could see the halo of downy fuzz blanketing his shoulder and buttocks, making the pale skin glow like moonlight. He crawled across the bed toward me and lay down parallel.
“Have I told you how beautiful you are and how much I love you?” he asked stroking my side, resting his hand on my hip.
“You have, but tell me again anyway.” I brushed a lock out of his eyes.
“You are the most exquisite being I have ever seen. So beautiful I cannot find words . . .” I brushed my fingers across his lips.
“Show me.” My knee moved up his thigh, my toes tickling behind his knee. His hand came around my hip, cupping my rear as his leg moved up, pushing my knee over his hip. My hand moved down, gently guiding. His breath caught and I closed my eyes with a guttural “OH!” as he entered. For a moment, we just lay there breathing before he rocked his hips, pulling me in deeper.
“I love you,” he gasped huskily. I nodded.
“I know.” I moved my hip sideways. He braced my back with both arms and rolled onto his own bringing me up above him. When I straightened, my hair hung down , tickling his stomach. I rocked my hips forward and back loosening my lower back. Forward, back, forward, back, around to the right, front, back around to the left, over and over again reminiscent of a belly dancing move quaintly called “the camel.” He grunted. I did hip circles. He groaned. I shimmied. He moaned and stilled my hips with his hands as he arched his back and sat up.
“I have no words for how lovely you are,” he growled as he pulled me in close. We sat there, connected, breathing one another’s breath for a moment. I could feel his heartbeat both under my hand and inside of myself, throbbing, matching pace with my own. He reached out and pulled a few pillows over into a pile beside and a little behind him.
“I’m going to show you how much you mean to me. Put your arms around my shoulders.” He rolled over making sure there were plenty of pillows for me to lean against. The back of his right hand traced down my side, tickling, caressing and finally holding firm to my hip. He brought the same knee out, moving my leg higher up his waist. His left arm was taut with muscle, bracing his entire body up. He rocked his hip again, pulling me closer.
“You are mine,” he rumbled deep in his chest. He kissed me again, all gentleness gone from his touch, rough, forceful, commanding, and not a bit unpleasant.
“As you are mine.” I nipped his lip, tasted blood, matching force for force. He brought his right hand up to clasp my left and leaned on the elbow. He then brought his other arm in to grab mine. He balanced his weight on those elbows and knees. He rocked back and pushed forward, growing ever more forceful. I arched my back against him. He brought my hands above my head, leaning closer.
“Don’t ever leave me again,” he gasped into my ear. The tears mingled with the sweat running down his nose to drip on me. “I couldn’t bear it,” he sobbed, pushing deeper, harder, faster.
I whimpered, moaned “Never. I’ll never leave you.” My body shuddered of its own volition. He nodded his breath coming faster. His movements became stilted, jerking.
“OH GODS! I missed you!” He arched his back and slowly rocked back and forth, his arms shaking. He slowed and then slowly sank to the side, my hips rolling with him. He somehow laid his head on my breast and cried. Simple, unabashed tears of joy, fear, release. When he started to snuffle I reached for a tissue.
“Honey, I love you. I’ll take any of your bodily fluids, but if you snot on my bare breast, so help me god . . .” I chuckled as I handed him the tissue. He blew his nose, sounding like a goose. He then curled right back up with his head on one breast, a hand gently cupping the other, gave it a squeeze, mumbled “mine,” into my chest and fell asleep. I was finally home where I belonged.