|
|
Paper Love
author:
Rating/warning & pairing: PG-15 Implied sexual acts
Disclaimer: I do not own any rights to any Marvel Characters
**********************************************************
“Hullo.”
There was no need for you to speak, I heard you arrive. The deep rumble of that chrome beast you call ‘babe’ was all I needed to hear to bring a smile to my face. I say nothing, there’s no reason to, just knowing you’re here is enough. Instead I continue my vigil; watching the crimson and gold through the picture window light-up the hills as the sun sets.
The floorboards of the old cabin groan under your tread as you make your way slowly to were I stand. I close my eyes, listing to every sound; the tinkle of keys falling onto the couch, the squeak of leather as you strip off your jacket. That first press of your body against mine releases the breath I’ve been holding since you came in. Funny how tense I get around you. I let you pull me in; wrapping you arms around my waist, your hands squeezing gently at my hip. I feel your breath on my neck and shudder at its warmth, tipping my head back slowly to rest on your collarbone. You press your lips to my hair and I hear you breath in my aroma. I know what you are thinking.
Silently we watch the sun sink behind the peaks. The only illumination in the room from the pastel-pink clouds which bathe our faces in the last glow of the day.
“Bin waitin’ long?”
“No, not long.” I answer turning to look up at you.
You bend and kiss my cheek lightly, the soft whiskers on your chin tickle my face sending a pleasant tingle through my skin. Moving away I watch you light the lamps and candles about the room. It always surprises me how easily you move, with such grace and dexterity; lightly flicking the Zippo and holding the candle up, waiting patiently for the wick to catch. The flickering light now casts strange shadows on the bare log walls as I make my way to the fireplace. Even at this time of year, up here in the rarefied air of the mountains a log fire is always welcome. I sit on the high, wide stone hearth, absently prodding at the crackling logs with the iron poker. I watch the orange sparks dance up the chimney and breath in the heady scent of fir-cones, letting the warmth seep through my skin.
You come to kneel at my side, resting an arm on my thigh and then lowering your head to my lap to gaze into the flames. Even with all your immense strength and weighty skeleton how is it that your body is never heavy against me?
I run my hand over your thick black mane allowing my fingers to come to rest on the soft short hairs at the base of your neck. I hear you rumble your approval; reminiscent of your ‘love’ siting out in the yard. It pleases me to know you are content.
If it were never again necessary to leave this spot I would gladly stay for eternity. You, I, the quiet of the cabin, the cold kept from the door by the flickering flames. All that I need is here. But we both know time is against us. This fleeting encounter all that we have to make up for months of separation. I wonder, if we do not speak would time stand still for us? If we break the silence would we be reminded that our time together is oh-so brief?
As the fire slowly dies I shiver in the cooling air. Knowing my discomfort you rise and pull the blanket from the couch. Throwing another log onto the embers you take my hand and help me down onto the white fur rug covering the floor. I find my spot between your outstretched legs and snuggle into your chest as you wrap us both with the blanket.
I let my fingers entwine in yours, feeling their strength. You squeeze a little to acknowledge my touch and I smile to myself. As fingers twist around each other I feel the rise and fall of your chest against my back, rhythmical and soothing. How I wish it was always this way. I sigh at the thought knowing the truth of our arrangement. You feel it too as the breath escapes your lips, gently blowing across my neck. Carefully I turn, flicking the long auburn strands of hair back from my face. Your eyes are turned away, not willing to meet mine, not willing to accept the briefness of this night.
I try to speak but your fingers are at my lips in an instant. “Don’t.” you whisper hoarsely. “Not now.” I press my lips to your fingers in acceptance and feel the shiver of arousal pass through your body at my touch.
You move so slowly, yet with such determination, wrapping me in your firm embrace as you lower me onto the rug, pulling the blanket with you. I am warmed by its softness and the closeness of your body. Resting on your elbows you gently brush loose strands of hair from my cheeks, watching my expression with blue lamenting eyes. It pains me to see you this way; torn between love and responsibility. How long must we put ourselves through this?
As if to ease my troubled mind you gently bend to kiss me, the feel of your soft mouth against mine finally breaks me. I whimper uncontrollably as I watch a tear roll over your long lashes to drip onto my cheek. As the pain fills us both you press deeper, trying without success to push aside the ache of sadness with the ache of lust. I bare up to you, hoping against hope I can take your burden away.
As the fire crackles before us we divest ourselves of our familiar identities; uncovered, exposed to only each other. I close my eyes and feel you roll over me; kisses, licks, touches, all so gently placed, so passionately given. Wild as a mountain lion yet vulnerable as a new born lamb you deny me nothing.
Like the glowing embers our bodies burn for each other, the salt of sweat and tears coats our feverish skin. Nothing, no-one could come between us. There is no heaven, no hell, no X to separate our desire. You give yourself to me. Open yourself to my caresses. I won’t hurt you, I won’t judge you. All I want is your love, your body, your mind, to share the joy and the pain, the hurt and the bliss. To feel your touch, to allow you to feel every inch of my body; caressing, kneading. Why do you make me feel this way? What is it that drives me to let you take me so wantonly? Why do I open myself to the point of being consumed by your lust?
I want you so completely, so fully. If I could spend eternity in your arms, I would; never eating, never sleeping just making love. Sometimes all I need are the hard, fast drives of rampant animal passion, all consuming; watching you writhe above me, hard, muscular, bestial, driven insane by your thrusts of carnal desperation. But sometimes, when you hold me tight in your arms, not moving, just breathing, I feel I could climax just from your touch.
We bind ourselves to this instant, this all consuming passion that gives us freedom for just a brief time. In our moment of release, the intensity of every emotion weighs ten-fold upon us, threatening to engulf us completely as we cling to each other for solace and strength, riding out the storm of our desire.
I know before we depart we will repeat this act again and again until we are drained of love and pain, but this first time, this initial coupling and the ecstasy it brings can never be repeated…until next time. As I bury myself in your warmth I close my eyes and let exhausted sleep take me, carrying me away on its dark softness.
***********
Morning greets me. Alone, cold and aching. Ashes smoulder in the grating and burnt-out candles cover the room. As I struggle to sit up and the rustle of paper shakes me from my incoherence.
“Bin waiting long?”
I close my eyes and remember the night before; you, me, this place. I hear your thick Canadian accent in my head, that deep luscious tone as I read the words from the brightly drawn page. I smile and close the comic.