Red Hot Cinnamon. Peaches & Cream. Wedding Cake.
AUTHOR: Shrimp
CHALLENGE: Red Hot Cinnamon 5: Too hot to handle; Peaches & Cream 7: (s)he loves me, (s)he loves me not; Wedding Cake 8: Kiss the bride
WORD COUNT: 1,133
RATING: PG-13
NOTES: Wowee has it been awhile, but I'm back. I really want to keep active with this. I'm aiming to make a post at least once a week. I've missed this place! Anyway, this excerpt is some Reynard/Bliss for anyone who wishes to indulge. :)
Reynard was breathless with laughter. His chest heaved spasmodically as he tried to catch his breath. His cheeks hurt from smiling. Bliss hung on his arm heavily, laughing just as much as he was. The world was spinning. He was drunk. She was too, though, so he didn’t feel quite so foolish. He couldn’t remember the last time he had drank so much. Maybe he wouldn’t remember tonight in the morning either. He hoped he would. He and Bliss had spent the night together at the bar, drinking and laughing. Whatever tension usually lay between them had been evaporated by the booze.
He stumbled on his way up the stairs, falling to his knees at the top, erupting in another fit of laughter despite the sharp pain that shot up his legs. Bliss let go of his arm and held her hands to her mouth, trying to stifle the giggles. Reynard loved the sound of her laugh. It was musical. Magical, even, just like her eyes. She was standing a few steps below him so as he shifted to look at her their height difference was negated. They were looking into each other’s eyes. Reynard was relieved that apparently being drunk had a slowing effect on the hypnotic nature of Bliss’s eyes. Rather than swirling through its colors her eyes were stuck on blue, their edges tinged with green. It made it much easier to look at her. It made it much easier to think.
The next thing he knew he was kissing her. Or maybe she was kissing him? He gripped the banister with one hand and wrapped his other around her shoulders. Her hands pushed at his shoulders to keep him from toppling over. When he pulled back he was even more breathless than he had been before only now he wasn’t laughing. He stared at her for a moment, in the time they had been kissing her eyes had shifted to a more green color, and closed his mouth when he realized it had been hanging open. His heart was beating hard in his chest, though it felt more like it was in his ears, and he could feel the hairs on the back of his neck standing up.
“Let’s go to the room before we get in trouble,” Bliss said as she climbed the rest of the stairs. Reynard nodded and stood up, reaching out for her hand before setting about going to their room. She was right. The innkeeper would probably be fairly annoyed if he found them blocking the stairs. As he turned the handle on the door he realized that Addison wouldn’t be within. It would be just the two them. While originally that thought had filled him with relief-there were only two beds in the room-now it filled him with an uneasy feeling. Would Bliss kiss him again? Would the privacy in the room inspire her to do more? He had only ever laid with one woman before. The guilt he had felt afterwards in regards to breaking his vows had been too much. He had never sought out a woman’s company since. But suddenly he felt differently. He didn’t know if it was the whiskey or just Bliss but he felt a need surging within him. It wasn’t a feeling he thought he could abate by himself.
He closed the door when they had both entered and for a moment simply leaned against it. He felt too nervous, too afraid to look up at Bliss. It was ridiculous to think of all of the things he had done in his life that he would be scared of Bliss. She held a power over him though, even without her eyes. He wondered if his usually surliness with her, if their usual tension wasn’t a symptom of this thing he was feeling now. This bottomlessness in his stomach that suddenly seemed large enough to swallow him whole. When he finally looked up she was standing in the middle of the room in her underclothes. He felt dizzy to see her there like that, her skin pristine in the dull light of the night sky that came in through the window. His breaths felt shallow and did nothing to help the lightheadedness. Tentatively he stepped towards her and without a thought he had his mouth on hers again. He could feel her ribs through her skin as he ran his hands down her sides. It was a strange sensation but it was drowned out by the softness of her skin, the warmth of her body, the nimbleness of her tongue.
When they separated for breath he backed up a few steps and sat on the bed. He pulled of his boots, tossing each one away as he did so. Looking up at Bliss hesitantly he began to take of his shirt. He sat topless and awkward for a moment. He didn’t know what he should do next. He didn’t know if there was a next. Softly Bliss put her hands on his shoulders. He shuddered beneath her touch. “Reynard?” She asked. He touched his hands to her hips and looked up at her.
“Yes?” He barely recognized the sound of his own voice. Hopeful and frightened and unsure.
“You need to tell me that you want this.”
“I want-“ The words fell from his mouth eagerly.
“No,” she gripped his shoulders tightly. “Close your eyes when you say it. Don’t look at me. I want to know… I want to know it’s real.” He stared up at her in the dark. She wasn’t looking at him, but rather over his shoulder and out the small window. She felt tense under his hands. Obediently he lowered his gaze to her stomach before closing his eyes altogether. In darkness the room spun worse than it had been before. He leaned his forehead against her front and tried to even his breathing. Images danced before his eyelids. Flashes of color and nonsense. He was drunk. Drunk, drunk, drunk.
“I want this.” His voice was low and rough. He thought he sounded desperate. Maybe he was. At this point he couldn’t seem to find it in himself to care. He wanted it. He wanted her. He wanted to lay with her, to kiss her, to hold her while they slept. He wanted to be a part of her for one brief perfect moment. He opened his eyes as she moved one of her hands from his shoulder and brought it to his chin, lifting his face towards hers. She looked into his eyes for a long, deep moment and then kissed him again, hungrily and deeply. A contented sound built in his throat and he leaned back onto the bed, pulling her on top of him in the process.
CHALLENGE: Red Hot Cinnamon 5: Too hot to handle; Peaches & Cream 7: (s)he loves me, (s)he loves me not; Wedding Cake 8: Kiss the bride
WORD COUNT: 1,133
RATING: PG-13
NOTES: Wowee has it been awhile, but I'm back. I really want to keep active with this. I'm aiming to make a post at least once a week. I've missed this place! Anyway, this excerpt is some Reynard/Bliss for anyone who wishes to indulge. :)
Reynard was breathless with laughter. His chest heaved spasmodically as he tried to catch his breath. His cheeks hurt from smiling. Bliss hung on his arm heavily, laughing just as much as he was. The world was spinning. He was drunk. She was too, though, so he didn’t feel quite so foolish. He couldn’t remember the last time he had drank so much. Maybe he wouldn’t remember tonight in the morning either. He hoped he would. He and Bliss had spent the night together at the bar, drinking and laughing. Whatever tension usually lay between them had been evaporated by the booze.
He stumbled on his way up the stairs, falling to his knees at the top, erupting in another fit of laughter despite the sharp pain that shot up his legs. Bliss let go of his arm and held her hands to her mouth, trying to stifle the giggles. Reynard loved the sound of her laugh. It was musical. Magical, even, just like her eyes. She was standing a few steps below him so as he shifted to look at her their height difference was negated. They were looking into each other’s eyes. Reynard was relieved that apparently being drunk had a slowing effect on the hypnotic nature of Bliss’s eyes. Rather than swirling through its colors her eyes were stuck on blue, their edges tinged with green. It made it much easier to look at her. It made it much easier to think.
The next thing he knew he was kissing her. Or maybe she was kissing him? He gripped the banister with one hand and wrapped his other around her shoulders. Her hands pushed at his shoulders to keep him from toppling over. When he pulled back he was even more breathless than he had been before only now he wasn’t laughing. He stared at her for a moment, in the time they had been kissing her eyes had shifted to a more green color, and closed his mouth when he realized it had been hanging open. His heart was beating hard in his chest, though it felt more like it was in his ears, and he could feel the hairs on the back of his neck standing up.
“Let’s go to the room before we get in trouble,” Bliss said as she climbed the rest of the stairs. Reynard nodded and stood up, reaching out for her hand before setting about going to their room. She was right. The innkeeper would probably be fairly annoyed if he found them blocking the stairs. As he turned the handle on the door he realized that Addison wouldn’t be within. It would be just the two them. While originally that thought had filled him with relief-there were only two beds in the room-now it filled him with an uneasy feeling. Would Bliss kiss him again? Would the privacy in the room inspire her to do more? He had only ever laid with one woman before. The guilt he had felt afterwards in regards to breaking his vows had been too much. He had never sought out a woman’s company since. But suddenly he felt differently. He didn’t know if it was the whiskey or just Bliss but he felt a need surging within him. It wasn’t a feeling he thought he could abate by himself.
He closed the door when they had both entered and for a moment simply leaned against it. He felt too nervous, too afraid to look up at Bliss. It was ridiculous to think of all of the things he had done in his life that he would be scared of Bliss. She held a power over him though, even without her eyes. He wondered if his usually surliness with her, if their usual tension wasn’t a symptom of this thing he was feeling now. This bottomlessness in his stomach that suddenly seemed large enough to swallow him whole. When he finally looked up she was standing in the middle of the room in her underclothes. He felt dizzy to see her there like that, her skin pristine in the dull light of the night sky that came in through the window. His breaths felt shallow and did nothing to help the lightheadedness. Tentatively he stepped towards her and without a thought he had his mouth on hers again. He could feel her ribs through her skin as he ran his hands down her sides. It was a strange sensation but it was drowned out by the softness of her skin, the warmth of her body, the nimbleness of her tongue.
When they separated for breath he backed up a few steps and sat on the bed. He pulled of his boots, tossing each one away as he did so. Looking up at Bliss hesitantly he began to take of his shirt. He sat topless and awkward for a moment. He didn’t know what he should do next. He didn’t know if there was a next. Softly Bliss put her hands on his shoulders. He shuddered beneath her touch. “Reynard?” She asked. He touched his hands to her hips and looked up at her.
“Yes?” He barely recognized the sound of his own voice. Hopeful and frightened and unsure.
“You need to tell me that you want this.”
“I want-“ The words fell from his mouth eagerly.
“No,” she gripped his shoulders tightly. “Close your eyes when you say it. Don’t look at me. I want to know… I want to know it’s real.” He stared up at her in the dark. She wasn’t looking at him, but rather over his shoulder and out the small window. She felt tense under his hands. Obediently he lowered his gaze to her stomach before closing his eyes altogether. In darkness the room spun worse than it had been before. He leaned his forehead against her front and tried to even his breathing. Images danced before his eyelids. Flashes of color and nonsense. He was drunk. Drunk, drunk, drunk.
“I want this.” His voice was low and rough. He thought he sounded desperate. Maybe he was. At this point he couldn’t seem to find it in himself to care. He wanted it. He wanted her. He wanted to lay with her, to kiss her, to hold her while they slept. He wanted to be a part of her for one brief perfect moment. He opened his eyes as she moved one of her hands from his shoulder and brought it to his chin, lifting his face towards hers. She looked into his eyes for a long, deep moment and then kissed him again, hungrily and deeply. A contented sound built in his throat and he leaned back onto the bed, pulling her on top of him in the process.