Dark Tide

Chapter 6

Your breathing deeper,
your body now heavy against hers
your eyelids lightly closed
your eyelashes, dark, beautiful fans against your cheeks.
She falls into the dark pools
she knows lie underneath
And dissolves.

His kiss is addictive and, despite their hours spent chatting like friends, once his lips are upon hers again, and their tongues flickering past each other, she needs this with the same blind desire as a moth to a candle flame. He goes beyond all sense and caution for her; she doesn't care if her wings are burnt to ashes by him. Any pain later is worth it to feel his hands gripping her skin and his lips bruising hers. Her fingers are tangled into his hair, hanging long now, and brushing her face and her neck, and she twists a lock around one hand, pulling him closer and making him gasp. She slides her other hand down his back and grips his tight buttock, pushing herself against him, as he kisses her neck, roughly. She feels the vibration of his moan against her throat, and the stirring inside her in response is so intense that she bites down on her own lip.

His hands pull the towel away from between them, and he sinks to his knees in front of her, his lips and tongue devouring her waist, her belly and her hip. The sensation of his lip rings, slightly grazing her, as his mouth explores her, makes her sigh with longing. How many minutes and hours and days has she spent since last summer, gazing at his piercing on photographs and trying to remember this exquisite sensation of it brushing against her skin? And now, the touch of it, doubled with his newer piercing, edges inside her thigh as he parts her legs. His breath is hot upon her, forcing a gasp out from her lips and he digs his fingers into her waist and the back of her thigh in reaction.

Her hand fumbles for the door handle, gripping it to steady herself, to stop her from slumping weakly down when his mouth slides upwards between her legs and his tongue sends agonisingly sweet ripples into her core.

She flickers her eyes open, her focus struggling to comprehend the glow of dawn, hazy behind the voile curtains which still shiver in the breeze. Then her senses twist themselves into knots as he controls her with his mouth, and the noises escaping her lips, with each flick of his tongue, are totally involuntary.

She dares to glance down at him, and the sweet shock of his upturned face, his beautiful eyes almost waiting to catch hers is so overwhelming that she is afraid she will sob. He pauses, and then deliberately licks his tongue against her whilst their eyes are locked, and she feels she will dissolve.

"How is this real?" she gasps, and then his breath against her, as he waits again, is so tantalising that she feels all her muscles tense in anticipation. When his tongue touches once more, she sees a gorgeous smirk flash across his eyes, and she whimpers and cannot hold his gaze any longer.

He teases her now, savouring the way he makes her twist towards him for more when he pulls away slightly, and then driving her so insane with his lips and tongue that she sighs his name deliriously. When she thinks she cannot last another moment, he stands, gathering her in his arms, and they stumble over to the bed. They crash downwards together, and she is dizzy with her out-of-control need for him and breathless as his body weighs her down into the sheets.

He kisses her lips, as her fingers find him so ready for her, and then he giggles that delicious giggle, his scrunched nose rubbing against hers. That inhuman duality between his powerful body inside her thighs and against her chest, and his doe-eyed smile makes her ache for him even more.

"Fuck me," she whispers, almost not knowing her own voice, it is so fevered with desire. His hands grasp her thigh and her shoulder, and she feels him push inside her, and she wraps her legs around his waist as he thrusts deeper. He pauses, and the room is filled with their heavy breath and the mingled scent of both their perfumes, lingering candle wax and the smell of body heat and longing. He strokes her face, pushing damp hair away from her eyes, and locks his eyes with her as he moves tantalisingly slowly. And she is completely trapped between her polar-opposite desires: the need for him to gaze at her like this for hours, with slow-burn sex; and her darker longing for him to rail her so hard and fast that she loses her mind. Why have you made me like this? she wonders.