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Being out of Windemiire was a huge relief for Ghet. It resonated of the people who’d lived there and the raft of unpleasant experiences she’d had there. So many arguments… Silver Dragon Ridge, by contrast, was one moment of raw terror, and a raft of healing. It was here they’d rebuilt their friendship, discovered the chains of passion that still bound them. It was right to be back here. And there was only one way to discover if the fire was stronger than the darkness, and that was to try.
She smiled nervously at Ro. Sometimes the weight of expectation just got in the way. "Okay, so... what. I'll go lie on that couch ‘til I stick to it, and we can pick up where we left off? Want me to run you a bath?"
A soft laugh rumbled through Y’Roden’s chest and he reached out to catch a stray red curl, brushing it away from denim-blue eyes with a gentle touch. He felt such a melange of emotion, it just couldn’t seem to be expressed. Relief… regret, blissful calm, unbearable agony… and most of all, the deepest, purest love imaginable. There was no question, for him, that this was right, that this was where they belonged. Sacrifices had been made, but he had been willing to make them, and would again for her.
“A bath would be nice, but, I’d rather not take it alone this time.” A hint of amusement shone through the weight of emotion in emerald gems and his fingers crawled across her hip, sliding round to the small of Ghet’s back and drawing her close. Lowering his head he buried his face into her hair and slowly inhaled, his embrace nearly crushing for a moment. “I still… wonder if this is real… if somehow I am still in the casket…. Just dreaming.”
Ghet laughed softly and moved closer to him, still not quite able to accept that he could touch her, and it was okay. What she'd given up had been agonisingly real; the reward still felt... odd. Yes, dreamlike. She'd hallucinated a lot while she'd been ill.
She laid her head against his chest, kissed him, and breathed deeply. "Well, now I'm trying to think of something I could do that you'd never dream of me doing, to prove that you're awake. But I know how inventive and, to be frank, sick, you are, so I'd be hard pressed." She shrugged. "And if it isn't real? You may as well enjoy it anyway. I could make you take your bath alone. After all, just because I'm marrying you doesn't mean I'm going to stop tormenting you."
“You’ve already done something I never dreamed you would,” he said in a low tone, “so I guess it must be real.” Lifting his head, Ro cupped her face and caught her gaze, “I should hope you won’t stop, it is, after all, what works best for us… Lisse Nwalme,” the words were said half teasingly, half in wonder, and ended with a kiss.
He’d been doing that a lot… every chance he got. It was a precious thing to be able to pull her close, to kiss her and not wonder who was watching, who might catch them, or whom they might be betraying. Guilt free Ghet… he’d wanted her for so long that he really couldn’t remember what it was like not to love her. Even through his twenty odd year marriage, it had been there, lingering beneath the surface like a tormenting ghost. Some might have called it obsession, others probably thought it had been all about the chase, about the not having, but none of them knew Ro, and what was in the depths of his soul. The truth was, he had loved her first, and everything else had somehow paled in comparison.
“Table, couch, floor or bath,” he asked in a ragged baritone, eyes closed and he pulled his mouth away from hers by the space of a breath, “Lady’s choice.”
Ghet blushed, unable to look away from his face, caught in his gaze. There was still... not regret, not at all, but sadness, when she thought of her ex-husband, of what she'd sacrificed to be here. She'd taken long enough that she knew the decision was the right one. No, not one she'd ever thought she'd make, either, but here she was. They were both damaged, but they would heal each other. It started here.
She responded to his kiss easily, gently at first, then less so. Her blood flamed under his touch, it always had. "You know how terrible I am with decisions," she said, her voice just a little lower than normal. Her hand ran down his side, over his waist, down along the hard muscles of his thigh. "Floor has the advantage of being right here. And we can't fall off it. Then bath after. No option is entirely... off the table, so to speak."
“I thought you liked falling off things,” Ro observed a little distractedly, the path of her fingers setting his nerve endings ablaze, “oh wait… that’s me.” Tugging at the laces of his shirt he let it fall open, the shrugged it off massive shoulders and let it drop to the floor. “Or was that falling onto things…” His fingers caught at Ghet’s shirt, tugging it free of her trousers and sliding up beneath the material, tracing the curve of her ribs.
He laughed a little nervously and grinned suddenly, “I love you… I can’t seem to quit saying it… I love you.” His kiss was a little more demanding this time and a low, resonating growl seemed to rise with his fingertips. Gathering the fabric of her blouse he pulled it upwards, then seemed to say the hell with it and simply tugged. She could kill him later for clothing abuse.
They lost more shirts that way, and Ghet wasn't complaining. "Falling. Falling is..." her breath caught as his fingers slid across her bare skin, trailing heat. "...a thing.” She grinned warmly, shrugging out of the remnants of her shirt. "Oh, I know. You shouldn't stop." His uncertainty charmed her, brushing residual fear aside. Deft fingers slid lower, unfastening his trousers and she dropped smoothly to her knees, smiled up at him, and lowered her head to kiss the mark on his stomach. Her mark. "I love you, too." Her head dipped ever so slightly lower, her tongue brushing over the livid scar on his abdomen. "All of you."
Verdant eyes glassed over with desire and Ro tangled his fingers into Ghet’s hair. What he loved most about her, was that she had seen the worst of him, and loved him despite of it… or perhaps, because of it. With Ghet he could be himself, no illusions, no lies, no cloak of light to hide the darkness within. The reverse was true as well, and a collage of memories set blood raging through his veins, heating his flesh and bringing him to near painful arousal.
The look he gave her was helpless surrender that was slowly eroded by the flames of something more. He wanted to feel her mouth on his skin, her flesh pressed against his… and hear her beautiful screams… “You are amazing… you do know that right?” he managed to get out, “and so gods damn beautiful…”
Ghet closed her eyes, long lashes brushing against his skin, feeling the rush of blood beneath her lips. Her breath was warm and teasing on his abdomen. For now, she was in no hurry, but it wouldn't take much. She slid her hands up the backs of his thighs and looked up at him, unusually serious. "You make me beautiful. You give me beauty with your eyes and your hands and your words." She kissed him again, her tongue slipping painfully low. "The least I can do is give you something back."
She grinned suddenly, quirking an eyebrow up. "Get down here, then."
Soft, rather dark laughter was all Ro managed for a moment, then he stepped back and kicked off his boots. His usual tight black leather trousers joined the clothing trail and he dropped to his knees, “don’t have to tell me twice,” he rumbled, slipping an arm around Ghet’s slight waist and bringing the heat of her skin up against his own. “Actually… usually, you don’t have to tell me once… but you know that.” He shut himself up with her mouth and hooked the fingers of his free hand behind one of Ghet’s knees, drawing her leg up along his thigh as he levered her up, then fell with her to the floor.
His hand slid up the back of her thigh, then up over the curve of her hip and the flat of her abdomen, teasingly slow, his grip increasingly hard until he cupped one breast, his thumb running across one firmly erect nipple.
Ghet's low chuckle became a growl as he shifted her easily, light in his strength. Her back kissed against the floor, then away again almost immediately, arching into his touch. Her mouth sought his, kissing him with a growing urgency, stifling a moan that shook her chest beneath his hands.
She lowered her mouth to his shoulder, licking, nipping, before sinking her teeth in hard. Moving under the weight of his body, she toed off her own boots, rolling a little away from him, laid out beside him in utter surrender. When she spoke, the rolled word was almost a purr. "Rodi." It was there, just a breath away, the utter glory of giving in completely. And yet... there was pleasure, too, in holding it off.
A flash of lust brightened Ro’s eyes for a moment, the mix of pain and promised pleasure searing through the core of his soul. His breathing erratic, the half-elf unfastened Ghet’s trousers and hooked his fingers into the waistband, drawing them down over her hips. He kissed her navel and rubbed his cheek across the flat of her abdomen in a catlike fashion, closing his eyes and pausing for just a moment. Even in his aroused haze his lashes wet slightly…. A flash of memory flickered through his mind… how beautiful she had been carrying his child. A fleeting regret that she hadn’t been his at the time was pushed aside, and he bit gently at Ghet’s hipbone as his hands worked his lover’s trousers the rest of the way down.
Rough palms slid over the soft skin of her calves and thighs, remembering every inch of her… though he had never truly forgotten. He wanted desperately to be inside her, and just as badly, wanted to draw the moment out. This was what mattered, what they would both remember, a reunification as sweet as their parting had been bitter. “Ghettie,” it was nothing more than a gravely whisper of baritone, but the name carried the whole of his heart and soul.
Ghet's breath hissed through her teeth when he bit her, a small gesture that carried a weight of memory and desire. It would fade in time, she supposed, but for now, every move carried echoes of the past.
She pressed her body against his, every inch of skin that touched humming. She touched him everywhere; eyes wide open, drinking down the sight and the feel of him, things that were the same, things that had changed. She could never get enough of him. He was hers, her miracle.
She rolled onto his chest, her hair falling around both their faces as she caught his eye and held it; honest, heated, naked. Then she lowered her head and kissed him, deeply. Her nails raked slowly down his chest, across his stomach, along the line of his hip, round the top of his thigh, and then her hand curled firmly around him, demanding. "I love you."
Past, present and future surrounded Ro in a curtain of ginseng and he breathed in slowly, ragged as her nails dug into his skin. His body shook and arched into her touch, surrendering, drinking her in. There was a feral beauty about her at this moment that held him caught even more firmly than the grip of her hand.
“Gods,” he breathed, digging his fingers into her hair, “I love you too, Ghettie. More than life.” Not a necessary sentence… he had proved it more than once, but Ro was done with holding back. For the first time he was willing and able to give someone everything. All of his heart, all of his soul, and the rest of his life.
Cupping the back of Ghet’s head he slid an arm around her waist and rolled, tucking her beneath his heavy frame, his lips rough on hers, parting them even as his hand slid down to part her thighs, his hips shifting between them. A low groan rumbled against Ghet’s mouth as her silken skin brushed against the outside of Ro’s thighs. He pressed himself against her, teasing, but not entering her, not yet.
Ghet whimpered, her body shaking under his touch. She felt like she was falling apart, the physical and emotional intensity more than she could take. She closed her eyes, drowning in the heat of his body pressed against hers. He overwhelmed her, and if she thought about it too much, scared her. She felt so small and helpless against him, and not just physically. Ro was intense, everything about him. Sometimes she felt she might submerge beneath the force of him, and never make it back.
The tension flowed out of her body as she gave into it, her hips lifting towards his, her thighs stroking against his. The shaking ceased as she stopped fighting her body's intense need, lust flowing out and bathing them both. Eyes opened, indigo with passion, fire building in her as she simply knew; she could match him.
Ghet made the decision consciously, in control for a rare moment. She locked her thighs around his, lifted her hips off the floor, and viciously impaled herself on him.
A gasping, choked moan lost itself against Ghet’s mouth as Ro slid deep within her, his weight pinning the redhead’s hips and holding her still for several precious moments as he simply let himself feel her scalding heat and the familiar pressure of her around him. The half-elf pressed his forehead against hers, drew in a slow, shaky breath and his gaze found Ghet’s, watching the change of expression on her features as he slowly pulled back and thrust forward, each movement smoother, harder than the one before.
A massive hand slid to Ghet’s waist, fingers playing across her ribs and applying pressure, gripping her hard as he carved a path deeper into her body.
Ghet gave up trying to stifle the cries and let them come. There was no line between pleasure and pain for her, there never had been. No-one had ever understood that as thoroughly, as intuitively, as Ro. He played her body with absolute mastery, a complete certainty in every move, and she loved it.
Ghet moved to meet his thrusts, as much as she could with his weight on her, a willing victim. And when his hand pressed against her ribs, she cried out, high-pitched, ragged, desperate, her mind torn away with lust.
Ro’s mind was lost in a haze, Ghet’s screams and movements beneath him bringing a wild, yet dream like sensation that felt… right. She matched him like no one else ever had, there was a mutual give and take, an instinctual understanding that no words could express… and none were needed. In contrast to his near brutal lovemaking, tendrils of emerald gently caressed the wounded crimson soul of his lover, of the woman that would soon be his wife… but made no attempt to connect.
Ghet’s breath came ragged and hard, and she bit at his shoulder, too far gone for any restraint, unaware if she broke the skin or not. Her whole body was caught up in what he did to her, every sensation melding together into a rampant, insanely lust-filled whole. She wrenched his head down, bit his ear, got halfway through a roughly muttered plea for more, and then her head snapped back, whacking into the floor as her body arched hard into his hand, screams changing tenor into absolute ecstasy.
The S’Hean reared up, his free hand bracing on the floor as he rose above Ghet, changing the angle of their connection and driving deeper. The tight rising heat of pending release drove him to a more feverish pace, his head tossing back, the chestnut fringe of his hair vibrating between crimson-shot emerald eyes. A guttural groan of anticipation ripped through him, the force of his thrusts brutal as pressure built at the base of his spine, Ghet’s name a ragged gasp as he held out just a little longer, revelling in the torturous pleasure of teetering on the edge of the demands his body was aching to answer.
All the strength went out of Ghet's legs, and she stopped fighting him. It was all she could do to keep holding on to him, hands sliding over sweat-slick skin until she gripped his hips, fingers digging deep into the muscles that drove him into her.
She shoved hard against him and screamed, wave after wave of absolute pleasure ripping through her body every time he thrust until her voice was ragged and nearly weeping. Too far gone to have kept her feelings to herself even if she'd wanted to, lust flooded off her; heady with the desperate all-consuming pleasure he gave her.
The wave of emotion rolled over Ro like a physical touch on his skin, searing along his nerves and ripping away his control. His body jerked hard, the self contained presence he had held up for nearly forty years shattering and he gave in with a deep, unrestrained cry as he came to a shuddering, explosive release.
Ghet's cries died to a whimper, her head spinning as she tried to catch her breath and pull her senses back together. When her body stopped shaking and she could get some control back over her nerves, she realised that what she was, was happy. Incredibly happy. Tears leaking from the corners of her eyes, she nuzzled against Ro's neck, loving the languid weight of his body on hers. Her throat hurt. Hells, large portions of her hurt, but in a good way.
She took a deep breath, as best she could with him on top of her, and sighed contentedly. "Yeah," she said idly. "Sometimes you just know when a decision is right." She lifted her head tiredly and kissed his forehead. She had won. Together, they had beaten her very real demons.
Ro caught the back of her head in his palm before it hit the floor and brushed his lips against her forehead, the tip of his nose trailing along Ghet’s hairline to her temple. The expression in the Elf’s eyes as he drew his head back was a warm, somewhat intense combination of joy and love. “I can’t ever replace what you have given up for me,” his low, rich baritone was heavy with emotion, “but Gods… Ghettie, I’m going to spend every moment of the rest of our lives trying to keep that expression on your face.”
Fingertips caressed the outline of her face and trailed over Ghet’s mouth, “I’ve loved you from the moment I first set eyes on you. I couldn’t ask for more than you standing willingly by my side.” A smile revealed the dimple in Ro’s cheek, “You are the centre of everything for me.” There was a short pause, “I should move before I permanently crush you into the floor.”
Ghet kissed the fingers that brushed her lips and smiled, rocking her hips gently. "I could have sworn, that was you at the centre of me."
More serious, she played her fingers across his fringe. "It's not your job to replace anything. I'm not going to hold you responsible for my decisions. Okay, I'm not going to be fine straight away, but... I will be. Right here. Not always standing, but very, very willing. I chose. I don't want you to feel guilty about it. It's bad enough that I do." And yet, once her mind was made up, her will was engaged, Ghet was implacable. There was no going back, and while she was sorry for the pain she had caused, that wasn't the same as regret.
She stretched underneath him and gasped as her spine popped. "Okay, yeah, I'll let you get off. Never let it be said I stopped you getting off." She grinned again, stupidly, warm and happy. "You'll still get to see that expression a lot, I think."
A warm laugh shook Ro’s chest, amusement lighting the depths of his eyes as he kissed her, then rolled carefully to the side, drawing Ghet with him until she was sprawled across his chest. Rumbling in contentment he clutched her to him for a long moment, breathing her in and letting his body settle. It was going to take a while for him to get use to the fact that Ghet was his, that his reality was suddenly… perfect.
In the meantime, he was going to linger in every breath until it sank deep into his skin, and his soul, and became real. He’d never take her for granted, there had been way too much time wasted for him to ever let a second go by without some sense of immense gratitude to whatever forces had made this happen… and Ghet herself. She had always been a self-assured, strong woman, one that he had held a complex web of respect, desire, love and lust for. Ghet was uncompromising and fair, open minded and wickedly evil at times…. There was no better match for Y’Roden, and he knew it.
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