Dance in the Darkness - PG-13
Posted: Sat Jan 31, 2009 12:01 am
This was my answer to a fic challenge from Eris. I brought this one over, because I hope to have a companion piece to it from Beth's POV someday.
Enjoy.
Usual disclaimers apply.
DANCE IN THE DARKNESS
"Dance with me."
Three simple words, yet they set me on fire. Michael Buble' spills out into the room at the touch of her hand; I let the music and her scent surround me as she straightens and comes towards me. The moonlight catches her and turns her skin luminous; her hips sway gently as she saunters towards me and my blood pounds in my veins, keeping time with her movements and the music.
She's taken her hair down and is running her fingers through it. She hasn't cut it since I mentioned how much I love her hair long and it hangs in blonde waves, reaching the middle of her back. I'm imagining my hands tangled in those golden lengths as she lays her hands on my chest and stands on tiptoe to brush my lips with her warm ones.
"You're still angry," she sighs as she unknots my tie and turns up my collar to remove it. She lets the strip of silk flutter to the floor, then tugs my shirt out of the waistband of my slacks. Her clever fingers open button after button and spread the open halves of my shirt to stroke my skin. "It was just a dance, Mick."
"With Talbot." In spite of my efforts to keep calm, my voice comes out in a growl and my body stiffens--and not in a good way. "He had his hands on you. I don't like it."
She takes my hand and nuzzles my palm before sucking my index finger into her mouth. My fangs punch through my gums and jab into my lower lip as she sucks me, watching me with those wickedly innocent eyes. As she swirls her tongue around the tip of my finger, it's all I can do not to take her to the floor and rip her red dress up the middle to get to where I desperately want to be. She pulls her mouth free of my finger and twines her arms around my neck, pressing herself close to me. Unwittingly, my arms sneak around her waist and bring her closer; breast to chest, belly to hip, her face against my neck, she pulls me into the motion of her body as "Home" begins to waft from the speakers.
"Now it's your hands on me. The only ones I ever want to touch me. Dance with me."
The warmth of her sinks into me, thawing me from the outside in until I can feel my bones melt. Her breath tickles my neck as we move slowly together and surely she was created for me, for this moment, as her body molds perfectly to mine. My hands worship the perfection of her curves as they pet and fondle her through the soft fabric of her dress. Her scent changes, becoming hot and sharp and tantalizing; my body is helpless to resist it. I feel her smile against my neck as she feels my response to her and she laughs softly. She raises her head and cocks it to the side, her lips soft and inviting.
"Kiss me, Mick."
I can't be gentle with her; I don't want to be. Watching her dance with Talbot, seeing him touch her made me want to snatch her from his grasp and brand her with a bite in front of everyone at Josef's dedication. She licks at me, her tongue wet and pink, and I crush my mouth to hers. Her lips part, an invitation for me to taste her and I sweep my tongue into the silkiness of her mouth. I want to crawl inside her mouth and devour her, claim her as mine. A throaty moan escapes her as I invade her, inhaling her breath into my useless lungs. I follow through on my earlier fantasy as my hand slips up her back and wraps itself in her thick tresses, holding her still for my assault on her lips. She wriggles and manages to break contact, pulling back as far as my hand in her hair will allow.
"Mick...I need to breathe."
My answer is to let go of her hair and scoop her into my arms. Too impatient to take her upstairs and bed her properly, she laughs delightedly as I tumble her to the couch. Her laugh ends on a strangled moan as I rake my teeth up her throat and settle them over the thudding pulse in her neck. Desperate to touch her skin, her dress doesn't stand a chance as I shred it with demanding hands.
"You have to stop tearing my clothes, Mick. I'm not going to have a decent dress or underthing left."
"I'll buy you a whole new wardrobe...just let me...god..." The words dry up as her skin is revealed to me. No matter how many times I see her like this, her beauty shatters my heart, swamps what's left of my soul. My eyes roam over her nakedness as I shrug out of my shirt and shuck my slacks. On my knees next to the couch, she arches her back as my hands, lips and tongue pay homage to her, my woman, my love. My Beth. Razor sharp canines score her perfect skin, leaving the mark of my possession in her softness. Her blood races and calls me to take it, to make her a part of me.
She sighs when I settle my weight in the cradle of her body, cool death pressed against the warm hope of life and love. She murmurs to me, a never-ending litany of love and lust as we join together in a dance as old as time, a rhythm as ancient as life itself. She stays right with me as instinct takes over reason and I drive us both hard and fast.
Mine. It's the growl in my throat, the beat in my blood, the endless song in my head. I whisper it, groan it, shout it as the air around us boils and churns. She tightens and trembles as she turns her neck, silently inviting me to take her blood as well as her body. With a roar, I claim her as my own, sinking my fangs into her throat and drawing deep as she shatters. My name falls from her lips over and over as she takes me with her over the edge.
She runs her hands over my sweat-slicked back and snuggles into my neck as we both fall back to earth. I smile as I feel her whispered words against my throat.
"Thank you for the dance, Mick."
Enjoy.
Usual disclaimers apply.
DANCE IN THE DARKNESS
"Dance with me."
Three simple words, yet they set me on fire. Michael Buble' spills out into the room at the touch of her hand; I let the music and her scent surround me as she straightens and comes towards me. The moonlight catches her and turns her skin luminous; her hips sway gently as she saunters towards me and my blood pounds in my veins, keeping time with her movements and the music.
She's taken her hair down and is running her fingers through it. She hasn't cut it since I mentioned how much I love her hair long and it hangs in blonde waves, reaching the middle of her back. I'm imagining my hands tangled in those golden lengths as she lays her hands on my chest and stands on tiptoe to brush my lips with her warm ones.
"You're still angry," she sighs as she unknots my tie and turns up my collar to remove it. She lets the strip of silk flutter to the floor, then tugs my shirt out of the waistband of my slacks. Her clever fingers open button after button and spread the open halves of my shirt to stroke my skin. "It was just a dance, Mick."
"With Talbot." In spite of my efforts to keep calm, my voice comes out in a growl and my body stiffens--and not in a good way. "He had his hands on you. I don't like it."
She takes my hand and nuzzles my palm before sucking my index finger into her mouth. My fangs punch through my gums and jab into my lower lip as she sucks me, watching me with those wickedly innocent eyes. As she swirls her tongue around the tip of my finger, it's all I can do not to take her to the floor and rip her red dress up the middle to get to where I desperately want to be. She pulls her mouth free of my finger and twines her arms around my neck, pressing herself close to me. Unwittingly, my arms sneak around her waist and bring her closer; breast to chest, belly to hip, her face against my neck, she pulls me into the motion of her body as "Home" begins to waft from the speakers.
"Now it's your hands on me. The only ones I ever want to touch me. Dance with me."
The warmth of her sinks into me, thawing me from the outside in until I can feel my bones melt. Her breath tickles my neck as we move slowly together and surely she was created for me, for this moment, as her body molds perfectly to mine. My hands worship the perfection of her curves as they pet and fondle her through the soft fabric of her dress. Her scent changes, becoming hot and sharp and tantalizing; my body is helpless to resist it. I feel her smile against my neck as she feels my response to her and she laughs softly. She raises her head and cocks it to the side, her lips soft and inviting.
"Kiss me, Mick."
I can't be gentle with her; I don't want to be. Watching her dance with Talbot, seeing him touch her made me want to snatch her from his grasp and brand her with a bite in front of everyone at Josef's dedication. She licks at me, her tongue wet and pink, and I crush my mouth to hers. Her lips part, an invitation for me to taste her and I sweep my tongue into the silkiness of her mouth. I want to crawl inside her mouth and devour her, claim her as mine. A throaty moan escapes her as I invade her, inhaling her breath into my useless lungs. I follow through on my earlier fantasy as my hand slips up her back and wraps itself in her thick tresses, holding her still for my assault on her lips. She wriggles and manages to break contact, pulling back as far as my hand in her hair will allow.
"Mick...I need to breathe."
My answer is to let go of her hair and scoop her into my arms. Too impatient to take her upstairs and bed her properly, she laughs delightedly as I tumble her to the couch. Her laugh ends on a strangled moan as I rake my teeth up her throat and settle them over the thudding pulse in her neck. Desperate to touch her skin, her dress doesn't stand a chance as I shred it with demanding hands.
"You have to stop tearing my clothes, Mick. I'm not going to have a decent dress or underthing left."
"I'll buy you a whole new wardrobe...just let me...god..." The words dry up as her skin is revealed to me. No matter how many times I see her like this, her beauty shatters my heart, swamps what's left of my soul. My eyes roam over her nakedness as I shrug out of my shirt and shuck my slacks. On my knees next to the couch, she arches her back as my hands, lips and tongue pay homage to her, my woman, my love. My Beth. Razor sharp canines score her perfect skin, leaving the mark of my possession in her softness. Her blood races and calls me to take it, to make her a part of me.
She sighs when I settle my weight in the cradle of her body, cool death pressed against the warm hope of life and love. She murmurs to me, a never-ending litany of love and lust as we join together in a dance as old as time, a rhythm as ancient as life itself. She stays right with me as instinct takes over reason and I drive us both hard and fast.
Mine. It's the growl in my throat, the beat in my blood, the endless song in my head. I whisper it, groan it, shout it as the air around us boils and churns. She tightens and trembles as she turns her neck, silently inviting me to take her blood as well as her body. With a roar, I claim her as my own, sinking my fangs into her throat and drawing deep as she shatters. My name falls from her lips over and over as she takes me with her over the edge.
She runs her hands over my sweat-slicked back and snuggles into my neck as we both fall back to earth. I smile as I feel her whispered words against my throat.
"Thank you for the dance, Mick."
yet I find it stiring and satisfying to say the least. 
