05-07-2014, 06:39 PM
He stood at the edge of the bed, completely disrobed. Blonde woman crawled to him. The touch of her fingers at his hip shuddered his abdomen with goosebumps, but he did not move away. She climbed up the front of him, and the warmth of her chest radiated onto his, yet he did not touch her. She nestled her lips into his neck, but it was to Aria that Dane's eyes roamed.
She was behind the woman, guiding her with a hand at the small of her back. Blonde woman seemed mindless in her acceptance of Dane's presence. Like she was stripped of all executive thought and functioned on instinct alone. Instincts that did not hesitate, though it was clear she was torn between the hand behind her and the man in front of her.
Somehow, this spare human being became the conduit for his and Aria's desire. He wanted to possess his obsession if only to coerce another look of connection between them one last time. Yet as Dane breathed in and out, as his blood pumped a volcano surging deep in the bowels of his gut, he dared not touch her. The graze of his hands on Aria's hip, or the tangle of her onyx hair in his fist, and he would end up on top of her, squeezing the life from her throat with his bare hands.
Blonde woman was his conduit. She grabbed his hands, entangling her fingers in with his, and guided him down. Aria moved aside and Dane laid back. Lumps knotted bulges in his back. He was a flat, thin figure, with the gnarls of ribs showing on either side of his chest, his abdomen narrow, and the jut of his hips visible. Blonde woman positioned herself close, guided there by Aria, and she and Dane simply watched each other, like they were the two sitting in the audience and neither willing to admit the cinema unfolding before their eyes was real.
Blonde woman pinched his nipple with her teeth, and the sharp surprise flared with anger. He realized how he had been puppeted onto his back; she tugged and he moved; and both severely bothered him. His eyes flashed dangerously and he uncoiled a tangle of power across her face that bloomed her cheek hot pink. "Don't do that again,"
he said, but his tone was suggestive rather than commanding. Her eyes glistened, blinking.
He sat up, gripped her behind the neck, and switched places with her. She fell limp to his movements, one of her hands had gone to her cheek, but Dane's smile and the caress of her hair from her face put her at ease. The bloom on her cheek matched the bloodshot red to her eyes. The woman was drunk enough to dissect alive and never feel a thing. Interesting, but lackluster without the begging for mercy.
On his knees, he left her alone. Dane shuffled aside and looked expectantly to Aria. "What do you want to do?"
He asked gentle as a priest to his flock. He licked his lips and guided her eyes toward the naked woman on her back, oblivious to the two monsters hovering nearby, and then he flicked his gaze suggestively to Aria's sword.
But Dane could not help himself. His gaze soon returned to Aria's pale flesh, drawn back from the distractingly lethal weapon in the room. He reached a hand out tentatively, exploitative, but pulled back before grazing the point of her nipple with the side of his finger. He visibly shook with the strain of not stabbing her to death.
He was coiled tight, so he shuffled to the edge of the bed. If either woman touched him he feared he'd slaughter both of them, or worse, embarrass himself physically.
Instead, he nodded, the voyeur, for now. Blonde woman was beckoning Aria to come to her, and Dane silently urged her to do so.
She was behind the woman, guiding her with a hand at the small of her back. Blonde woman seemed mindless in her acceptance of Dane's presence. Like she was stripped of all executive thought and functioned on instinct alone. Instincts that did not hesitate, though it was clear she was torn between the hand behind her and the man in front of her.
Somehow, this spare human being became the conduit for his and Aria's desire. He wanted to possess his obsession if only to coerce another look of connection between them one last time. Yet as Dane breathed in and out, as his blood pumped a volcano surging deep in the bowels of his gut, he dared not touch her. The graze of his hands on Aria's hip, or the tangle of her onyx hair in his fist, and he would end up on top of her, squeezing the life from her throat with his bare hands.
Blonde woman was his conduit. She grabbed his hands, entangling her fingers in with his, and guided him down. Aria moved aside and Dane laid back. Lumps knotted bulges in his back. He was a flat, thin figure, with the gnarls of ribs showing on either side of his chest, his abdomen narrow, and the jut of his hips visible. Blonde woman positioned herself close, guided there by Aria, and she and Dane simply watched each other, like they were the two sitting in the audience and neither willing to admit the cinema unfolding before their eyes was real.
Blonde woman pinched his nipple with her teeth, and the sharp surprise flared with anger. He realized how he had been puppeted onto his back; she tugged and he moved; and both severely bothered him. His eyes flashed dangerously and he uncoiled a tangle of power across her face that bloomed her cheek hot pink. "Don't do that again,"
he said, but his tone was suggestive rather than commanding. Her eyes glistened, blinking.
He sat up, gripped her behind the neck, and switched places with her. She fell limp to his movements, one of her hands had gone to her cheek, but Dane's smile and the caress of her hair from her face put her at ease. The bloom on her cheek matched the bloodshot red to her eyes. The woman was drunk enough to dissect alive and never feel a thing. Interesting, but lackluster without the begging for mercy.
On his knees, he left her alone. Dane shuffled aside and looked expectantly to Aria. "What do you want to do?"
He asked gentle as a priest to his flock. He licked his lips and guided her eyes toward the naked woman on her back, oblivious to the two monsters hovering nearby, and then he flicked his gaze suggestively to Aria's sword.
But Dane could not help himself. His gaze soon returned to Aria's pale flesh, drawn back from the distractingly lethal weapon in the room. He reached a hand out tentatively, exploitative, but pulled back before grazing the point of her nipple with the side of his finger. He visibly shook with the strain of not stabbing her to death.
He was coiled tight, so he shuffled to the edge of the bed. If either woman touched him he feared he'd slaughter both of them, or worse, embarrass himself physically.
Instead, he nodded, the voyeur, for now. Blonde woman was beckoning Aria to come to her, and Dane silently urged her to do so.