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Chapter Twenty One ~ Continuation Filia lay snuggled under the blankets on the bed, wearing just a warm, woolen nightshirt that reached her knees. She barely moved, except to breathe, as she strained her ears to listen for footsteps in the hall over the sound of the rain. For the last few nights, she had taken to sleeping out in the living room in front of the fireplace with Valgaav. But now her question was, would he come to her tonight instead? Even more than that, did she want him to? She just wasn't sure. When he had held her in the bath, and washed her hair, Filia thought she had been thrown into a flame. Every single nerve had become hypersensitive and aware, and even now, embers still flickered. It was both enthralling and terrifying, and she was at a loss for what to think about the sensation that the fire could consume her. There were no footsteps that she could discern, but the telltale soft click of the door handle alerted her to his presence. Several long heartbeats passed, and nothing more. Unable to handle the suspense, Filia looked over her shoulder to the door, afraid to find that he was no longer there. Her fears were unfounded, and a soft hesitant smile played across his lips. "I didn't wake you, did I?" Valgaav asked softly, and she shook her head. "May I come in." Filia didn't have an answer for him immediately, but then she found herself nodding. He quietly slipped inside the room, shutting the door behind him before approaching the bed, sitting on the edge beside her. "How do you feel?" he asked, stroking her still-damp hair away from her face. She wasn't sure how to answer that, and went with the safer option. "Sore," she whispered. "I'm not surprised. I saw what looked like the start of a few nasty bruises." His fingertips lightly brushed her cheekbone. "I can't say how relieved I am that you're not badly hurt." Filia knew then what she wanted, and turned her head to kiss the palm of his hand, closing her eyes. "Stay," she murmured, almost inaudibly, her lips brushing against his skin. He stopped moving then, then leaned over, kissing her forehead gently. Filia didn't open her eyes as he stood, and then she heard the soft creak of the frame as the bed shifted under his weight behind her. There was a brief rush of cold as the covers were moved away, then it was gone, replaced by a greater warmth from another body pressed against hers. Valgaav draped an arm over her waist, and she felt his legs come up, bending to mold against the back of hers, and it felt as if they were completely touching, from head to foot. Filia tried to close her eyes and rest, but every fiber of her being was wide awake. Her nerves felt as though they were humming, like a wire stretched far too taut. When he made no other move, Filia tried to ignore it, but the growing hunger to feel more was maddening. As timid as a mouse, she brushed her fingertips over the back of the hand that rested over her stomach, lightly caressing his hand and arm. Valgaav began to follow suit, his fingers tracing lazy patterns against her through the woolen shirt. The motion caused the rough gray fabric to rub against her breasts, and it felt like a fire flooded her that could only be cured by its very cause. Her breathing grew quick and unsteady, and when she felt his lips on her neck, his tongue grazing her pulse as soft as a breath, Filia couldn't keep a moan from escaping. When his hand traveled up to her face, he brushed over the sensitive peaks pressing against the wool, causing her breath to congeal in her lungs. His lips against her delicate ears caused the fire to slowly spread, unfurling through her midsection and pouring lower. It was such a confusion sensation. Bewildering and almost painful, the fire grew worse with each touch. But it felt as though should he stop, it would never die down, just simmer at a low burn until she went mad. She felt him gently nip her neck, and a shudder ripped through her. His hand moved again, drifting down her side, brushing over her hip. The proximity of his hand brought a whole new world of awareness to the liquid flame that was simmering low inside her, and a strange, fresh pulsing ache slowly began at the apex of her thighs. She couldn't help but shift position slightly in an uncontrollable longing as his hand moved away, and a unfamiliar kind of electricity shot through her as his fingertips grazed bare flesh, just above her knees. Biting back a groan, Filia rolled over to face him then, her hands resting on his bare chest. Neither of them moved once she stopped, just watching each other. The light of barely-restrained hunger in his eyes caused her to shiver, but whether in anticipation or fear, she didn't know. Then she lost the ability to breathe as she realized there was an echoing hunger deep inside. Long heartbeats later, his mouth covered hers in a sudden, demanding kiss. Filia whimpered as her lips parted, allowing his tongue admittance. The fire inside roared to searing levels and she clung to him, afraid if she didn't, she'd be swept away in a wildstorm of sensation. His hand slid up her thigh under her nightshirt, the touch steady and firm. A miniature convulsion of need caused her to press against him, groaning quietly against the kiss. But his hand didn't linger, traveling up her side to brush over her stomach, leaving her nerves thrumming in its wake. Valgaav's touch traveled up the outer side of her breast, barely touching her and awaking within her a fresh sense of want. Filia whimpered as his fingertips brushed high over her chest, over her collarbones, carefully avoiding the very places that were screaming for attention, for something to quench the flames. His other hand cupped against the back of her neck gently, holding her into the kiss, which she now returned with a feverish urgency. As Valgaav continue to caress her, Filia tried to shift under his hand in an attempt to cause him to touch her where the nerves throbbed their loudest. But it was in vain, and finally with a frustrated whimper, Filia reached up and grabbed his wrist through her shirt, pulling his hand to her breasts. He stopped teasing her then, wrapping his fingers gently around one, the pad of his thumb brushing over the nipple. If Filia had thought before that the contact was the cure, she wondered now if she were mistaken. The fire inside was growing hotter, a deep roiling blaze. She nipped at his bottom lip, growling softly in faint pants, and he responded in kind, tearing his mouth from hers, biting onto her neck, his arms holding her almost immobile. Her leg went over his then, and the rough cotton of his pants felt splendid against the soft skin of her inner thigh. Valgaav slowly licked her neck and drew his head back, breathing heavily. It was then she realized he was trembling about as much as she was. "Do you want this, Filia?" he whispered, and his voice -- low and husky with desire -- was unsteady. She tried to speak, but the capacity of speech wasn't quite within her grasp. Instead, she nodded even as she pulled him back to her, kissing him breathlessly. She heard him groan, and then, not breaking the kiss, he moved the both of them up into a sitting position as he tugged the hem of her nightshirt to her waist. If she blushed then, Filia didn't notice, the fire uncoiling inside was hotter and far more demanding. When the nightshirt reached under her arms, Filia raised them, drawing free from the sleeves. The kiss was broken only long enough for him to tug it over her head, tossing it aside somewhere, then they fell back onto the bed as his mouth covered a nipple, raking his tongue against it. She choked down a breathless, soft scream as she was flooded with sensations beyond her own capacity to fathom. Her back arched clear from the sheets as she pressed against his mouth, writhing beneath him as the heat controlled her nerves. Valgaav moved over her, his lips, teeth, and tongue leaving scalding kisses over her chest and neck. Filia was barely aware of him moving, shedding the cotton drawstring pants he usually wore to bed, and she growled quietly in lust as he settled down, partially beside her, partially over her. One hand remained cupping her neck, under her head, supporting her, holding her to him, and the other traveled down over her stomach from her breasts to the tangle of soft, golden curls. Filia shuddered, feeling as though she were no longer in control of her own body as the lust-fueled fire inside levied its own demands. Her legs parted and her hips bucked slightly, needing, wanting, craving his touch. As she felt him brush his fingers against the heart of the flames, an uncontrollable shudder ripped a quiet, sobbing gasp from her lungs. Lust and heat burned away the last of reason. The touch hadn't slaked off the fire; if anything, it made it worse by a hundredfold. Yet something instinctual kept insisting that it was only the cause which could also be the cure. Her hands gripped his shoulders, digging in her nails, as she gasped his name, her lips brushing against his briefly as they explored one another with their mouths, tasting the cleanness of just-washed flesh and the increasing saltiness as sweat began to form a sheen. Feeling the racing pulses through the veins, and the trembling gasps catching low in their throats. Smelling the heat, the flames, the desire. Valgaav moved over her then, and she could feel him trembling violently, growling in low, unsteady gasps as his lips traveled up her neck. She felt his hardness pressing against her belly, but desire drowned the first tremor of fear. He drew his head back, braced on his elbows as he looked down at her, and his hands framed her face gently, holding her still to look in her eyes. Filia couldn't breathe; all she could do was run her trembling fingers down his spine, and her legs against his, wrapping them around his waist intuitively. Then she felt him press against her, entering her, filling her, and far too slowly. He shuddered, and she heard his breath catch, but he never broke eye contact, not yielding to her body's own urging. After what felt like an excruciating eternity, he was fully within her, and the fire wasn't dying. Just like everything else, it kept making it more obstinate. As she felt him begin to move within her, it ripped a low, desperate growl from her throat. Valgaav kissed her hungrily, lingering only for a moment before his lips found her neck, and he nibbled and licked long her thundering pulse. The passion was driving her to insanity, and Filia gripped him tightly, her nails digging into his back, her legs tightening around his waist, her hips bucking against his, trying to get him even deeper inside her, even though she was already as full with him as she could be. There had to be relief, a release. She was on fire, and her nerves were charred, yet far too sensitive. A sobbing growl escaped from her, and she struggled under him, trying to find a way out, an end to the uncontrollable, incomprehensible passion that was threatening to consume her. Valgaav held her tightly, and from the tightness of his embrace, the power behind the nip he just delivered to her neck, the tremor in his body, and the hungry aggression in the way he took her, he was also just as lost as she. It was bliss beyond her wildest dreams laced with sheer torture, and the only way out was to give in. The roiling blaze inside overtook her then and erupted through every cell, exploding in a white heat so intense, her awareness of everything else died. Breathless, she screamed, clinging to him for dear life, as if he were her only hope to keep from completely spiraling out of existence. His mouth covered hers in an echoing growl, deep and intense, and his arms were so tight, there was no more room in her lungs for air. Finally, it faded, leaving them unsteady, relaxing into one another, clinging in weak desperation. Valgaav raised his head and gazed down at her, brushing a trembling hand against her cheek. Filia moved just enough to faintly nuzzle him. No words were spoken; there was nothing they could say, not even of love. It didn't feel like words could do anything justice. Valgaav closed his eyes and gently kissed her forehead before moving off of her, laying down at her side, drawing her to him. Filia readily responded, rolling over, snuggling close as she lay her head on his chest, listening to his heart as his pulse gradually tapered off to normal. Feeling loved, calm, sated, and utterly relaxed, it didn't take her long to drift off to sleep, in a tangle of limbs, flesh against flesh. This was home. |
to be continued...
Chapter Twenty Two