Air. There wasn't enough air. It was so hot that my whole body throbbed in what I named as fire. Not fire, my skin was not singed, but it certainly felt like it was. Air. I couldn't get enough air. The fire wouldn't let me. This feeling was overwhelming. My heart was pounding with the effort it took to absorb it all. And I couldn't. But I had to. I couldn't, though, and that scared me most of all.
Green eyes. Dark and gorgeous, brimming with emotions that I couldn't fully understand. Boring into my own eyes, surely wide with the worry and fear I felt. They explored an expanse of skin never revealed to any other but myself. Hands, much, much larger than my own, travled and traced odd shapes and things I wished I knew what they were, because a smile lightened his face when he made them, so surely they were nice. They fiddled with my hair and calmed the tension in my muscles, but did nothing for the fire. Made it worse. They rekindled the fire and poked at it to make it burn stronger. And I tried and tried to stop them, but he always whispered into my hair kind words that made me think for far too long. Soft lips. Full and gentle, parting as he spoke reassurances to me. Trailed light kisses down unexplored skin. Made me squirm and sometimes giggle. And he'd chuckle with me, because, he said, he loved me.
He loved me.
And what I felt could not be described. A warmth, in my tummy and chest, fluttering and tickling me, and what I figured to be a goofy smile crossed my features, and his laughter made me blush. But his eyes were no longer dark and scary, but shiny and happy. The room was dark, and the blankets were warm around us, and his skin was hot and flush against my own, but in the light of the moon I saw that strange golden hue that made him so unique. And a kiss from him was all I wanted. So my fingers tangled in soft, soft, dusty gray hair, and his lips were like velvet. The fire scoarched between us, and the noise he made was feral and made me shiver. I was on my back and we were so close, and the fire didn't leave. It burned me and left me breathless, and he did not break the kiss. The pain I felt was clouded over by the hunger for his proximity. So close that no part of me was not touching him in some way. My legs tangled with his, with his hard belly pressed against my own, his arms around me, one hand supporting the back of my head, the other around my lower back, pressing us closer.
And his sudden but careful movement made me break away with a startled gasp. What was this? I struggled in his arms but he only tightened his grip on me. His hips pulled away, and then back in, and the foreign feeling made me panic. My frantic movements made him press his face into my hair and pant. And his hips pulled away again, pushing in a little more forcefully than before. The more he did it, the less I struggled, and I stopped moving. But his hand, the one that had held us together, grasped my hip and pulled me upward as he pushed down, and the noise he made brought another shiver. So I mimicked his movements, and he kissed me. The rhythm was slow, gentle, and the sighs and whispers he made made me whimper. The feeling was...amazing. Waves of heat and pleasure overtook me as we moved together.
"You don't how long I've waited for this," he rasped in my ear.
That stopped me. "What?"
He pushed back a little to look at me. "You've been locked up for thirteen years. I was forced to wait for you to finally awaken..." He pressed his face into my neck, breathing in deeply. "It was torturous."
"So all you really cared about was this?" I gestured to our bodies, still pressed real close but unmoving.
"What? No. I wanted you. I longed to see you again, to hold you, to finally talk to my mate..." He brushed my hair from my face. "I know it's a lot to take in. I went through the same thing. I spent months trying to wrap my head around it. Years, actually, while you were locked up, and, until I saw you, I denied it and tried to fight it. But when I saw you...everything changed." He kissed the tip of my nose affectionately. "It's strange for me, too, this feeling," he motioned to our bodies. "But it feels natural," he murmured, and I nodded in agreement. He smiled. "Please, just let this happen. And I'll explain the rest later."
"Okay," I said. His smile was brilliant. He reached down and pulled my legs up to wrap around his waist, and he pressed closer. With his lips glued to mine, he began the same gentle rhythm that I mimicked perfectly. The friction burned us both in turn, heating our already hot skin. Drops of sweat rolled down his toned stomach, and disappeared between our bodies, in black hair and gray hair, mixed together in our intimacy. I briefly wondered what was going on down there. I wondered why our bodies could be so close, why the feeling was generating from there... I pushed him back gently, and though he looked confused, he let me. I shifted, sitting up a little as he continued moving, and gasped at what I saw. He was inside me. "Oh," I breathed. "Oh my... Wha...?" He chuckled and wrapped his arms around me.
"It's natural," he reminded me. I nodded, unsure, and allowed him to push me onto my back again. I felt small, very small beneath him, holding me close. Small and fragile. He treated me as if I'd break. And...it both pleased me in a strange way, and wounded my ego. I'd always wanted to be strong. I wanted to prove to him I was strong. I pushed his shoulder, and, again, although he looked confused, he let me. He trusted me enough to do as I wanted. I flipped us so he was on his back instead. My hands splayed on his chest at the sensation, his own hands automatically grabbing my hips. We stared at each other, unsure, and then I moved and he closed his eyes, sighing. He moved with me, saying things I didn't quite understand. "Hana," he moaned. And I felt a jolt. The first time he's said my name, and in such a way.
"Fang," I whimpered. There was a tightening feeling in my lower stomach, and I knew I was reaching something. I went faster, harder, and felt his hands tighten on my sides, copying me. He flipped us over but didn't slow. He grabbed my knees and hooked his arms under them, somehow going in deeper. He growled at me and attacked my neck with kisses, earning a shiver. "Wha...? Fang...what's happening?" I asked as the feeling tightened further, my body beginning to tremble.
He shook his head. He trailed firey kisses down my neck, along my collarbone and toward my chest. His tongue traced shapes all around, nipping gently at me. "Just let go." And so I did. Everything went white, and, vaguely, I heard him howl my name, and I screamed his.
I woke up in his arms. He was softly humming a song I didn't know but calmed me, playing with my hair. He smiled when I opened my eyes. His eyes were golden, sparkling with happiness, and he kissed me on the lips lightly. I blushed and buried my face in his chest, listening to his steady heartbeat, feeling his soft laughter rumble through him. I gasped when I saw the necklace he wore. It was a fang.
When I had been younger, I had hung a necklace on my wall, because I was yet too small to wear it. I had told myself that one day, one day when I proved myself worthy enough of such a beautiful necklace, I'd wear it. In this world, people wear the fangs of animals they have conquered, animals they have rightfully slain. The fang I'd hung on my wall was a creature my own father had defended us from, and made into a necklace just for me. But I told him I would not wear it until I had slain an animal on my own. I had, but I'd given the tooth to my brother, the shark tooth. Before I got a chance to wear it, the whole incident occurred.
The necklace Fang wore was of a creature I'd recognize anywhere: A Nightmare. Nightmares were just what their name implied. They manifested someone's greatest fear, were born from fear, fed off of fear... They were highly dangerous, difficult to kill, and anyone who killed them was held highly in society. The necklace Fang wore wasn't my father's; it was his own. My father's necklace had been made out of hemp, tightly woven in a braided pattern with small, pink hued shells in honor of my being a girl, two midnight blue beads on either side of the actual fang, in honor of our eyes. But Fang's was a black leather necklace, with only two silver beads on either side of the fang. But this fang was longer, sharper, darker than my father's had been. Meaning it had been much, much stronger.
I didn't know what Fang had been through, what he's done in his life, what he goes through even now, but what I did know was that he was strong. Stronger than my own father. I had never known anyone could be stronger than my father. But now that I did, I felt a great sense of both security and apprehension. This man with the most beautiful eyes, with the kindest smiles, with the touch that burned me so, was my mate. My husband. He was here to protect me, to care for me, to love me... But my mind could not fully accept it. My father had been the foundation of my life, the man I went to for saftey, for comfort. But I'd never felt more comfortable than right here in Fang's arms as he twisted midnight colored locks between two long fingers, humming that song that made my heart slow and my mind drift toward sleep, made me want to furrow deep in his chest and never leave. But my skin brushed the tooth, and I felt my heart begin to pound.
I was bigger now, an adult. I'd slain my own animal. And though it had been long, long ago, I'd still done it. So where was my own display of triumph? I sat up, looking around my room, as if I'd find it there. Fang lightly touched my shoulder as he sat up with me, moving to lie on his stomach, leaning upward toward me. He kissed me, my forehead, my cheeks, my chin, my ear, my jaw, until he was trailing down my neck, making my body come alive, burning for him again as he lit the fire all over again. As he reached my collarbone, me already gasping for air, he lightly pulled at something, his teeth--sharp and lethal as I'd seen last night--clicked against something, and he gave a playful growl. The sound made me giggle for some reason. As I looked down to see what it was he was playing with, the laughter ceased. I was already wearing my father's necklace. Fang had half of the long, sharp, pale tooth between his own line of teeth, pulling lightly, still giving soft growls. I felt an overwhelming amount of both adoration for my silly husband and pride in the necklace.
I combed my fingers through his gray hair and asked, "How did it get on me?" He tilted his head up, releasing the fang and letting it fall back toward me, a new feeling I hadn't noticed as the fang connected with my skin, and pressed his nose to my ear.
"I put it on you. As you slept." He smiled sheepishly. "I'm sorry if that's strange."
I shook my head, smiling back. "It's not. Thank you."
He shrugged and kissed me. Something snapped between us, the fire surging through both of us, and I was suddenly lying down, clawing at his back as he quickly filled me. I cried out in what I guessed was relief, and our movements were frantic. Now that I knew a little more of what to do, I felt no shame in kissing his skin as well, tracing my own patterns on him. I murmured things in his ear, and he whispered things in mine. But it all ended with our names. With "I love you".
Lying in the aftermath, my head on his chest, his arms wrapped around me, he gently stroked my arm, a flame burning with every stroke. I couldn't deny this fire Fang brought, the one I was sure no one else could. He said he felt it, too. Felt it like no one else has ever caused. And I blushed. I didn't quite regret this all. Didn't quite hate it as I thought.
"You don't how long I've waited for this," he rasped in my ear.
That stopped me. "What?"
He pushed back a little to look at me. "You've been locked up for thirteen years. I was forced to wait for you to finally awaken..." He pressed his face into my neck, breathing in deeply. "It was torturous."
"So all you really cared about was this?" I gestured to our bodies, still pressed real close but unmoving.
"What? No. I wanted you. I longed to see you again, to hold you, to finally talk to my mate..." He brushed my hair from my face. "I know it's a lot to take in. I went through the same thing. I spent months trying to wrap my head around it. Years, actually, while you were locked up, and, until I saw you, I denied it and tried to fight it. But when I saw you...everything changed." He kissed the tip of my nose affectionately. "It's strange for me, too, this feeling," he motioned to our bodies. "But it feels natural," he murmured, and I nodded in agreement. He smiled. "Please, just let this happen. And I'll explain the rest later."
"Okay," I said. His smile was brilliant. He reached down and pulled my legs up to wrap around his waist, and he pressed closer. With his lips glued to mine, he began the same gentle rhythm that I mimicked perfectly. The friction burned us both in turn, heating our already hot skin. Drops of sweat rolled down his toned stomach, and disappeared between our bodies, in black hair and gray hair, mixed together in our intimacy. I briefly wondered what was going on down there. I wondered why our bodies could be so close, why the feeling was generating from there... I pushed him back gently, and though he looked confused, he let me. I shifted, sitting up a little as he continued moving, and gasped at what I saw. He was inside me. "Oh," I breathed. "Oh my... Wha...?" He chuckled and wrapped his arms around me.
"It's natural," he reminded me. I nodded, unsure, and allowed him to push me onto my back again. I felt small, very small beneath him, holding me close. Small and fragile. He treated me as if I'd break. And...it both pleased me in a strange way, and wounded my ego. I'd always wanted to be strong. I wanted to prove to him I was strong. I pushed his shoulder, and, again, although he looked confused, he let me. He trusted me enough to do as I wanted. I flipped us so he was on his back instead. My hands splayed on his chest at the sensation, his own hands automatically grabbing my hips. We stared at each other, unsure, and then I moved and he closed his eyes, sighing. He moved with me, saying things I didn't quite understand. "Hana," he moaned. And I felt a jolt. The first time he's said my name, and in such a way.
"Fang," I whimpered. There was a tightening feeling in my lower stomach, and I knew I was reaching something. I went faster, harder, and felt his hands tighten on my sides, copying me. He flipped us over but didn't slow. He grabbed my knees and hooked his arms under them, somehow going in deeper. He growled at me and attacked my neck with kisses, earning a shiver. "Wha...? Fang...what's happening?" I asked as the feeling tightened further, my body beginning to tremble.
He shook his head. He trailed firey kisses down my neck, along my collarbone and toward my chest. His tongue traced shapes all around, nipping gently at me. "Just let go." And so I did. Everything went white, and, vaguely, I heard him howl my name, and I screamed his.
I woke up in his arms. He was softly humming a song I didn't know but calmed me, playing with my hair. He smiled when I opened my eyes. His eyes were golden, sparkling with happiness, and he kissed me on the lips lightly. I blushed and buried my face in his chest, listening to his steady heartbeat, feeling his soft laughter rumble through him. I gasped when I saw the necklace he wore. It was a fang.
When I had been younger, I had hung a necklace on my wall, because I was yet too small to wear it. I had told myself that one day, one day when I proved myself worthy enough of such a beautiful necklace, I'd wear it. In this world, people wear the fangs of animals they have conquered, animals they have rightfully slain. The fang I'd hung on my wall was a creature my own father had defended us from, and made into a necklace just for me. But I told him I would not wear it until I had slain an animal on my own. I had, but I'd given the tooth to my brother, the shark tooth. Before I got a chance to wear it, the whole incident occurred.
The necklace Fang wore was of a creature I'd recognize anywhere: A Nightmare. Nightmares were just what their name implied. They manifested someone's greatest fear, were born from fear, fed off of fear... They were highly dangerous, difficult to kill, and anyone who killed them was held highly in society. The necklace Fang wore wasn't my father's; it was his own. My father's necklace had been made out of hemp, tightly woven in a braided pattern with small, pink hued shells in honor of my being a girl, two midnight blue beads on either side of the actual fang, in honor of our eyes. But Fang's was a black leather necklace, with only two silver beads on either side of the fang. But this fang was longer, sharper, darker than my father's had been. Meaning it had been much, much stronger.
I didn't know what Fang had been through, what he's done in his life, what he goes through even now, but what I did know was that he was strong. Stronger than my own father. I had never known anyone could be stronger than my father. But now that I did, I felt a great sense of both security and apprehension. This man with the most beautiful eyes, with the kindest smiles, with the touch that burned me so, was my mate. My husband. He was here to protect me, to care for me, to love me... But my mind could not fully accept it. My father had been the foundation of my life, the man I went to for saftey, for comfort. But I'd never felt more comfortable than right here in Fang's arms as he twisted midnight colored locks between two long fingers, humming that song that made my heart slow and my mind drift toward sleep, made me want to furrow deep in his chest and never leave. But my skin brushed the tooth, and I felt my heart begin to pound.
I was bigger now, an adult. I'd slain my own animal. And though it had been long, long ago, I'd still done it. So where was my own display of triumph? I sat up, looking around my room, as if I'd find it there. Fang lightly touched my shoulder as he sat up with me, moving to lie on his stomach, leaning upward toward me. He kissed me, my forehead, my cheeks, my chin, my ear, my jaw, until he was trailing down my neck, making my body come alive, burning for him again as he lit the fire all over again. As he reached my collarbone, me already gasping for air, he lightly pulled at something, his teeth--sharp and lethal as I'd seen last night--clicked against something, and he gave a playful growl. The sound made me giggle for some reason. As I looked down to see what it was he was playing with, the laughter ceased. I was already wearing my father's necklace. Fang had half of the long, sharp, pale tooth between his own line of teeth, pulling lightly, still giving soft growls. I felt an overwhelming amount of both adoration for my silly husband and pride in the necklace.
I combed my fingers through his gray hair and asked, "How did it get on me?" He tilted his head up, releasing the fang and letting it fall back toward me, a new feeling I hadn't noticed as the fang connected with my skin, and pressed his nose to my ear.
"I put it on you. As you slept." He smiled sheepishly. "I'm sorry if that's strange."
I shook my head, smiling back. "It's not. Thank you."
He shrugged and kissed me. Something snapped between us, the fire surging through both of us, and I was suddenly lying down, clawing at his back as he quickly filled me. I cried out in what I guessed was relief, and our movements were frantic. Now that I knew a little more of what to do, I felt no shame in kissing his skin as well, tracing my own patterns on him. I murmured things in his ear, and he whispered things in mine. But it all ended with our names. With "I love you".
Lying in the aftermath, my head on his chest, his arms wrapped around me, he gently stroked my arm, a flame burning with every stroke. I couldn't deny this fire Fang brought, the one I was sure no one else could. He said he felt it, too. Felt it like no one else has ever caused. And I blushed. I didn't quite regret this all. Didn't quite hate it as I thought.
