Lost

((this is mature and sexually explicit so please, if you don't think you can stand it or you are under age, DON'T read)).


He woke up under her kiss.

Desperate, urgent, as her hands cupped his face, preventing him for turning away.
She has crawled onto him with all her weight and the scent of magic was so deep, so rich that he could barely refrain himself from tapping hard into it.

“Laan…”

He tried to utter her name but all that came out was a muffled sound, as she continued to kiss him deeply, her tongue eagerly exploring his mouth. And he kissed her back, his body instinctively responding to the craving passion in her touch, even if his mind struggled to tell him then and there, it just wasn’t right.

She seemed to want to drown in him, judging by the urgency of her touch, her hands roaming freely under the covers and his clothes. And then, on another layer of perception there was the stabbing pain of withdrawal and the rich taste of her mana, so strong that it made the world spin around, as he tried in vain to fight the aching need he felt.

“Laan”…

“Shh”, she whispered in his hair, breaking the kiss only for a moment, before returning to his mouth with something like an insatiable hunger. “let me…”
Her warm, soft body was curled over his and the funny thought that crossed his mind is that they generated enough heat together to fuel a gnome’s experimental laboratory. Laandra’s hands were everywhere, in his hair, on his chest, sliding, caressing, making him burn. He shifted a little, enough to take hold of her arms as he rose, but she followed him, her kisses going down his neck, her soft breath sending small shivers to his very core.

The next thing he became aware of was that he held her almost roughly ,kissing her, with the same almost vicious desire Laandra has shown before. She moaned and whimpered under each touch, wrapping herself around him, her eyes closed in abandon, her head trashing from side to side.

He entered her just a little and she sobbed, thrusting forward to make him sink into her welcoming body. He drove forcefully into her and Laandra let a small, choked sound escape her lips…then she squirmed under him, arching her back, her hands closed on his shoulders, fingers digging into the flesh, bruising…yet he remained oblivious to that, to anything else than her delicate features, the way in which she bit her lower lip as the storming sensations engulfed her.

And he could not take it anymore.

He’d been through all sorts of pleasure and all varieties of pain, yet nothing, ever, as intense as the moment in which his control broke into little shards and delved into her mana.

The stream of her magic flowing inside him, filling him like an empty, dried well, sending him over the edge and into something resembling an endless abyss, as she climaxed and cried out in ecstasy. Her body tensed around him and he almost cried too, collapsing on top of her, among crumpled sheets and blankets, limbs still tangled, fighting for air in short, rasped breaths.
It took him minutes to regain consciousness, or at least some state close to it. To unclench his hands from her arms, only to discover, in the shrouded light of the dawn, the bruises on her skin.

“Oh Light”, he breathed. There was blood on his lips, where he had bitten them to retain his cries. He wiped it with the back of his palm, slowly becoming aware of the slightly painful traces on his back, where her nails had savagely dug into the skin.
Laandra lay by his side, eyes closed, in something like a state of trance, her breathing slowly returning to normal.

It was a test, Eireannan thought. Pushing herself to the limit, just to see that she could still feel.

That the horror of the returning memories had not numbed her senses yet.

That she hasn’t grown afraid of taking and being taken.

And it was that very fear in her soul that threw them both well over the limits, making them experience such bliss.

He frowned again at the sheer self abandon she made him display. He would never –willingly- allow himself to feel that much. She made him lose control.

And he hated that, as much as he loved her and the feeling of her warm body under his own.
“Laan?”

She opened her eyes and gave him a small, insecure smile, then her gaze widened in apprehension and she raised a hand to his cheek, letting it drop almost immediately.
“You look like hell”, she said, but there was no remorse in her voice.

“You should see yourself”, Eireannan muttered, bending on one hand to examine more closely the bruises on her neck.

Laandra closed her eyes again, her eyelids fluttering slightly against her alabaster skin. Shivering under his touch. Smiling, to some image in her mind that he could not see.

“So it wasn’t a dream”, she whispered.

“Apparently not.”

With a deep sigh, Eireannan rested his head on her shoulder, placing a small kiss on the bruised skin. He felt wasted, utterly drained by the intensity of their love making that he doubted he would have found enough strength to stand, were they to fight for their lives in that very moment.

He heard her sob too, her chest heaving with the unwelcome rush of memories, as she probably thought again at her recently discovered past.

But she could face the fear, he knew it.

She was strong.

Strong enough to let go.

And those moments they had just shared were her shield…a shield to protect her from the stinging pain of tears, from the moments when the world seemed to sink into darkness and there was nothing else left, nothing to hang on to and believe it was still worth living.

I love you Laan, he thought.

Yet he did not find the courage to say the words out loud.