No One Ever Looks Up (VA - Romitri)

Chapter 1: No One Ever Looks Up

I hardly dared breathe as I crouched outside his window. It was mid-day (mid-night in the Moroi world) and I was perched on a ledge outside the third floor Guardian dorms. The sun shone on my back, and I paused for a moment to savor the warmth of its rays. God I missed the sun. I would be easy to spot, had anyone looked up. But it was after curfew – everyone was asleep. And, anyway, no one ever looks up.

Ever so gently, I eased the window open. Ever so slowly, I shifted the blackout curtain. Good – he was asleep. I'd hoped he would be, but I hadn't been sure. Now – how to get in without waking him? I decided to just go for it. Carefully, I eased one leg over the sill. So far, so good. Now, slowly slide the hips, waist, shoulders, head... And... drop to a crouch... Perfect. Now, glide over to the bed...

It looked as if he'd fallen asleep whilst reading. One of his well-worn cowboy novels rested beside his out-flung arm. I took a moment to drink in the godly perfection of his body, then smirked. Judging by his considerably tented boxers, this was not going to be terribly difficult. My fingers twitched, itching to smooth the hair back from his brow, stroke his bare stomach and chest. I ran them instead down my front, smoothing the dress he had been forced to admit he admired at the mall. I stroked softly down from its plunging neckline to its silky – and very short – skirt.

It was no wonder he'd said the dress would endanger the school – the top hugged my curves and gave me a lot of cleavage. And the flirty skirt brushed the tops of my thighs and barely covered my butt. And, honestly, I didn't intend to wear it to the dance. Maybe I would have, once. But now the only man I wanted to see me like this lay before me. I knew I couldn't have him, but dammit I wanted him. And I was tired of training with him each day, pretending the sexual tension wasn't there. I was done pretending.

So here I was. In his room, while he slept. In this dress. It wasn't the sort of dress you'd wear to a dance, not really. But to a seduction? Oh yes, this was the perfect dress to wear to a seduction.

I ran my eyes hungrily over his nearly-naked body. After this, nothing would be the same again. Either he'd push me away, maybe refuse to train me, get me kicked out of school, and I'd never be a guardian... or he'd let me break down those walls and would make me his. I had no idea which way he would go. But I was done pretending. One way or another, things were about to change.

I stepped closer, closer, moving silently in my bare feet. One step. Two. He snorted, and I froze, but he didn't wake. His breathing settled and I drifted closer still, until I stood at his side. Slowly, slowly, I lifted one leg up, over, until I straddled him, hovering over his body. I hesitated for an instant – but it was far too late to turn back now. I lowered myself gently onto his body, until I was straddling him, directly over those tented boxers. I leaned down, shifted my hips against his, and pressed my lips to his.

"Dimitri." I whispered against his lips. His reaction was instantaneous, overwhelming, and exactly what I hadn't dared hope for.

His lips moved against mine hungrily, and his hands twined in my hair as he pulled me closer. His tongue demanded entrance and I granted it, moaning softly as he deepened the kiss. His hands slipped down my sides to grasp my hips as he pulled me against him, and I instinctively rocked my pelvis against his. I felt him lengthening and hardening under me, felt him pulsing with need through the thin cloth separating us. He moved his hands slowly up and down my thighs, then up my sides, his fingers trailing fire in their wake. When he reached the sides of my breasts he paused, then agonizingly slowly began moving those clever fingers towards my rapidly hardening nipples. He cupped my breasts then, and with his thumbs began teasing my nipples, sending jolts of pleasure to my core.

"Dimitri!" I gasped, and it was as if a bucket of cold water had been thrown over us.

His eyes flew open, and he stiffened and jerked away from me.

"Rose." He was gasping for breath as much as I, but desperately trying to control it. "What are you doing here?" His tone was hard, cold, disappointed.

He didn't want me.

I couldn't meet his eyes. "I...nothing. Nevermind." I said softly. I had gambled, and I had lost – which was even more painful after allowing myself to think I had won. I started to swing my leg back over him, climb off his lap and slink out the way I had come.

I shifted only an inch before I realized. Climb off his lap. I was still straddling him. And his need still pulsed beneath me. I shifted my hips experimentally, and felt his instant response as his erection stiffened and twitched against me. He wanted me, alright, I realized. I shifted again, testing. Again, he twitched beneath me, and his fingers tightened around my breasts. He'd never moved them.

He realized it the same time I did.

"Rose..." he started, frowning. I noticed he had yet to remove his hands.

"What?" I asked innocently, running the tip of my tongue across my lower lip. His eyes followed; darkening, and his breathing became labored.

"Rose..." he tried again.

"Shh." I pressed my finger to his lips, cutting off his protest. Instead of removing it, I slowly traced his lip.

He twitched against me again, more insistently. His fingers started tracing patterns against my breasts. My pulse quickened.

"Why are you here?" he whispered against my finger.

"I had to ask you a question."

"Oh?" One eyebrow went up.

"Yes." I purred. "Don't you want to know which underwear I'm wearing?"

His eyes widened and darkened with lust.

"What makes you think I care which underwear you're wearing?" he asked huskily.

He was trying so hard to feign disinterest. But I could see it in his eyes – he was running through a mental catalogue of every pair of my underwear that he'd seen (slipping out of my bag at practice, strewn around my room when he came to fetch me, any excuse I could think of, really). I thought of the very sexy pair I'd slipped over his drawer knob on my way in, and his face when he found them later, and smiled. A sexy, sultry, predatory smile.

"Because," I whispered throatily in his ear, "I'm not wearing any."

He growled and crushed his lips to mine. When we broke the kiss, gasping for breath, he flipped us so he hovered over me.

"Roza," he whispered, "are you sure?" His eyes begged me to say yes.

"Comrade," I grinned, "what did you think I came all this way for?"

And then he attacked my lips with his own, as he pressed his body to mine. With my last shreds of conscious thought, I made a mental note to send a thank you card to the store where Lissa found that dress.