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GrandChildren |
Ce'Leste D'Riel
Va'Lan D'Riel
An'Lin D'Riel
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This, Ghet reflected as she knocked at Y’Roden’s door, probably wasn't going to work. In the main, she just wanted to see his face.
She gestured the young fire-dancer behind her and grinned.
Y’Roden had made it back home at some point, and the knock at his door had him scrambling for clothes after a much needed shower.
Opening the door he blinked in surprise, looking from Ghet to the man behind her. "You know," he drawled, "You are not supposed to accompany your singing telegrams," he winked, braving a kiss on her nose.
Ghet giggled and looked at the fire dancer. "Do you do singing telegrams? I should look into that..." and just for a moment, she got that familiar hey-I-could-make-some-money-out-of-this gleam in her eye. Singing telegrams, yeah. Well, some of them could sing...
She shook herself and returned his kiss with one to the cheek. She was fine most of the time. "Um, I've got a wee problem I wonder if you could help me with. Willow got this guy for the party, but we need somewhere for him to stay until then. I'd have him in with me but... well, Chase is home and he totally wouldn't understand. Any ideas?"
She was vaguely picturing a hotel-wide game of pass-the-fire-dancer, and grinning.
Y’Roden raised an eyebrow, quite loosing it in his chestnut fringe of hair as he gazed down at Ghettie. There was a rather odd gleam in his eye, "Sure, come on in, he can stay here... but uh... you'll owe me one." He winked at her and stood aside to let them pass. "Feel like having a coffee or something?"
He really hoped Chezlar had fire insurance.... "I think there is a spare bedroom in here... I haven't really investigated every nook and cranny, wanna help?" He was moving off towards the kitchen at this point, "By the way... thanks for the gift
Ghetsuhm was blushing. Again. It was becoming a habit around Y’Roden. She'd had no intention of seeing him for a while after she'd sent the gift, and she certainly hadn't been planning on dropping in immediately afterwards. "Um, that's okay, and er thank you. Yes, I owe you one. You might want to collect after my husband's left the building. I'd love some coffee." She was thinking she should probably stay out of his nooks and crannies.
"Oh, I like what you've done with the place. I especially like the big chicken. I live with a man who spent his formative years in a caravan, so I get a pretty free hand with the decorating. Can I help with anything?"
Y’Roden paused on his way into the kitchen and stared at the 'big chicken'. "You know... I don't remember putting that there..." Apparently he had Elven Alzheimer’s...
"Coffee," he said, mostly to himself, "I just put on a fresh pot before I hopped in the shower." He had a brief thought that he showered a lot when Ghettie was around... he wondered why that was. "Does the one man circus act want anything?"
He poured a cup of coffee for Ghet, added one and a half sugars, and slid it across the counter to her. He figured that should give her something to think about for a while. He took his black.
"No, I really like the chicken. And the circus act doesn't seem to talk much." She frowned. "I don't even know if he understands a word I'm saying."
Then he made her coffee, and she just stared. "How do you know that? You're not going to tell me, are you? Oh well, I don't mind taking advantage of that. Or anything else that comes my way."
Oh stop, you're embarrassing me
She could really see him in the shower, too.
Actually, maybe Galain could jack that up for her. He was the expert, after all.
Y’Roden just smirked and waggled an eyebrow at her over his cup. "A guy has to have some secrets you know." He was still mulling over the chicken... "I think the guest room is that way," he pointed in a general direction and watched the circus fellow wander off. "Well, he does understand Common... or at least hand signals. Think we could train him?"
Setting down his cup he winked at her, "And careful what you wish for, I may just give you something to take advantage of." He lifted the lid off of a jar on the counter, "Cookie?" Oh yeah... he was a regular Martha Stewart.
Ghet grinned, took two biscuits, dunked one in her coffee and munched idly. She could get used to this, she thought, wrapping her legs through the barstool. "Thank you. And it's my job to tempt you, remember?" She grinned. "You should come up and visit us sometime. Let me return the favour."
One part of his mind was mulling over the possibilities of a pet Fire Dancer... he wondered if he could train the fellow to do windows....
The other part of his brain was extremely jealous of the stool Ghettie had her legs wrapped around.
"Sometime we'll have to write out an actual job description for you, that’s something I would really like to see. It would define my flirtation limits as well... which could be rather helpful you know. Something like... Y’Roden is allowed to go from point A to point C as long as he doesn't touch point B kind of thing." He paused to eye her for a moment, "And I'm not sure if a visit would go over so well, I have a problem restraining myself sometimes and Chase doesn't strike me as a tolerant sort of fellow."
Ghet very nearly fell off the stool laughing. "Tolerant," she choked out, her face turning purple. "Tolerant! He keeps trying to kill my pet squirrel. Oh dear..." She took a deep breath and managed to get her laughter back under control. She thought for a moment. "I've never seen him break anyone's fingers for touching me, but he does keep threatening to do it, and it's probably not a risk worth taking. Maybe we should wait until he's gone again." Oh, a secret friendship, that wasn't dodgy at all.
"A contract, huh? Sure having a list of things you're not allowed to do won't end up coming across like a giant dare? And I guess we should do one for me, too. I have been known to overstep my bounds."
She figured she pretty much had "asking for trouble" down to a fine art.
"Killing your pet squirrel huh? Well that’s a new way of putting it." His grin turned rather evil at that point, "Oh... I don't know, I've had my fingers broken before," his gaze raked over her body and he winked outrageously at her, "Looks worth the risk to me."
He took another drink of his coffee, his brow furrowing thoughtfully, "So... how do we know what to put on the list? Should we experiment? Kind of a science project without the Bunsen burner? I think I have a pad of paper around here somewhere, we can draw up charts and lists and check off the things that seem to be taking it over the line." He was laughing quietly, which caused the little fringe of chestnut hair between his eyes to shake.
Ghet grinned. She was occasionally completely deficient in the common sense department. "What, you're looking at using some kind of trial and error system? Cause I'm thinking the error rate could be high." She frowned a moment. "I could hook up some kind of alarm system, link to pulse rate, blood pressure, hormone levels. Anyone gets too excited, it goes off." She got an evil look in her eye. "Of course, we'd have to experiment to know where to set the benchmark for it."
"I'll volunteer for that," Y’Roden grinned right back, the words benchmark me baby running through his mind for some reason. He got up and went to the 'junk' drawer, rifling for a pen and paper. "Now lets see... " He wandered back over to sit down and started drawing a chart. "We start at point A, being standing about ooooooh... two inches apart. Now at the far end of the scale we have sex... I mean we don't have sex... "
He went completely red for a moment, then seemed to recover, "We write the word sex, and we don't go there." That was much better... right?
Any minute now, she was going to start giggling like a Catholic schoolgirl. This was partially because a large chunk of her brain was frozen right back when he'd said it would be worth getting his fingers broken. She was beginning to think it would be worth getting his fingers broken, too...
She shook her head. "Where it says inches, write feet. Believe me, honey, I can blow your head off from two inches away, without touching you. If I should choose to." Don't ask me to prove that, don't ask me to prove that, don't ask me to prove that... "Are you planning to include psychological torture? It's one of my strong points."
Y’Roden’s eyebrows shot up into the fringe of his hair again, and he stared at her openly. Before he knew what he was saying it just popped right out, "Prove it."
Well, he had never had anyone try to blow his head off from two inches away before. And he was terribly curious.
"And yes, psychological torture is somewhere about here on the chart," he tapped a spot with his pencil, "Which is why I've decided to call you my Nwalka Luuke."
Dang. "You like your science practical, don't you? I'm very glad we decided to leave the Bunsen burner out." She raised her eyebrows at his new name for her. "Are you going to tell me what it means, or is that another of your secrets?" Oh, she'd picked up enough to recognize the root of the word nwalka, and she was grinnin'. She studied his face a moment, loving what she saw, and smiled. "Oprit sarbatoare, yes. Oh, I should not be here."
She licked the crumbs from her fingers, got down off her stool, walked around the counter, and stood about two inches away from him at the sticky-outest part. He might be a couple of inches shorter than her husband, but he was still tall enough that she could use all her favourite tricks. She very slowly looked up at him, through her thick dark lashes. "I really don't think you want me to do this. It will involve me putting myself in a state of mind where I might very well let you..." her mouth twitched, "kill my pet squirrel. And if you can control yourself by the time I'm finished, then I haven't done a good enough job. I do a very good job."
Ghet had completely forgotten that there was someone else in the apartment.
He really should have known better, the little fringe of hair was doing that vibrating thing already. "It means Cruel Enchantment," he murmured, "I promise not to kill your squirrel..." God only knows if he actually knew what he was saying. "So show me."
Yeah, he had forgotten about the circus act too.
His brain was quietly prattling something about self-control being the name of the game... He was very good at resisting temptation... he had to be; he had been friends with Ghettie for quite some time now.
Ghet shrugged. "Don't blame me, then. And you're responsible for getting me back in a state where I can go out in public again. And go back to my husband, who will be in for a very nice surprise."
She took a deep cantering breath. Then she reached out with her mind and tweaked the emotional state of the room, just a little, to predispose it to lust. Technically, this was cheating, but he'd practically dared her, and she wasn't going down without a fight.
So to speak.
When she opened her eyes, there was a look in them that he would have recognized. Sultry, hot, utterly surrendered, boring into his. She gave a languid little stretch, then reached her hands down to the top button on her shirt. She stroked the skin there for a moment; her movements slow, then quickly undid the button. She moved down to the next one. It took five excruciatingly slow minutes to get them all undone, then she let the fabric slide from her shoulders, her hands stopping it revealing her breasts, which nonetheless were perfectly clearly unrestrained beneath her shirt.
She turned her head to lick her own shoulder, checking out his state from the corner of her eye.
He was absolutely positive that the temperature in the room had just skyrocketed, and that little fringe of hair was definitely vibrating at high speed. Y’Roden’s eyes remained riveted on Ghettie's fingers as she made a slow torturous show of undoing the buttons.
The elf actually made a strangled squeak when the shirt dropped, cut off by a little gasp when her fingers halted its decent. The lick did him in, and he backed up swiftly, both hands firmly grasping the counter as he screwed his eyes shut... hoping that maybe if he couldn't see her his clothes wouldn't be so uncomfortably tight.
Now if he had known she was going to cheat he would have warned her, but how was he to know? She had never asked if he had any special little abilities. The elf, like his sister, had this little part of him that magnified magic, which included telepathy and empathic talents. That little part latched onto her little bit of tampering, turned it around, and broadcast it like a loud speaker right at Ghettie.
The elf sensed something awry and one eye popped open as he let his soul touch the Aethyr. "I think one of us had better run... really fast..."
Ghet's eyes went wide. She'd dropped a stone in the pool, and the ripples had come back as a tidal wave. "What did you do?" she groaned, backing up until she felt wall behind her. She lifted her hands to her temples, trying to find concentration. After a minute, she realized that this let her shirt fall open, but unfortunately for Y’Roden, it was more important that she got her mind under control.
"Okay, from here, three options. One, I can run out of here, and your kitchen will remain a Passion Pit for, oh, I think about three weeks. Or you can leave, and I can try a dispersal in here, and try to redirect things a little. Or three, you can get naked and hit the floor."
Oprit sarbatoare, forbidden feast. She could devour him right now...
Y’Roden swore he heard the counter crack underneath the grip of his hands. "Gods woman, you are talking to a man, which option would you expect me to take? Uh... you wouldn't happen to have a cattle prod would you?" She was going to need one at this point to keep him at bay.
This had been such a bad idea...
Her shirt was open...
Must... close... eyes...
Ok... he managed that much.... now what..
.
Its amazing how tight ones clothing can become at times like these.
"I left the cattle prod at home," Ghet said without thinking. "And don't you try to get out of it like that. My impulses are no more controllable than your average man's. Less. Oh gods." She managed to pull her shirt back together, but there was no way she was going to be able to get the buttons done back up.
There was a nasty little voice in her head suggesting that, if they gave in, it wouldn't really be anybody's fault...
She opened her eyes to find that she was standing right in front of Y’Roden again. How the hell had that happened?
Was it just him? Or was her voice getting closer? "Aire rilma," he murmured. "So now what do we do?" he asked with a sigh... and then he made a horrible mistake. He opened his eyes.
It seemed the same voice in Ghet's head lived it Y’Roden’s too. Where the hell had his famed self control gone hmm?
"We can do this... sure we can... we can just.... sit down here and... uh... have a coffee.... " The little fringe of hair between his eyes had hit warp speed. "You have a cattle prod?"
Damn... there went his concentration again...
"Tell me no," yes the counter definitely cracked this time.... "Gods... tell me no..."
Ghet figured he didn't want to know the answer to the "cattle prod" question, given that the answer contained the phrase "toy box". But that other thing, she could do that.
"No," she said, in a deep husky voice. 'No', to rhyme with 'yes'.
Somewhere in the foggy recesses of what could be jokingly referred to as her brain, she realized that if the fire-dancer came back, she'd be trying to fight off two people.
Or Y’Roden would, whatever.
His arm somehow found its way around Ghettie's waist and he pulled her tightly up against his chest. OH yes... that was helping immensely. "Say it like you mean it," he growled, lips nearly touching hers. Whether he mean no as no like she meant it, or no as yes like she meant it was up for grabs. Funny, he had never noticed the little white lines in her irises before....
Oh, he felt good, incredibly good. Her head was spinning madly. Speak? She could hardly breathe. What did she mean? If he pressed, if he so much as lowered his mouth to hers, she knew she would surrender. And by 'surrender', she meant 'take him violently'.
Must. Not.
She was the married one; it was her job to stop this happening. She didn't want to stop this happening. But if she didn't, she would regret it. Possibly. She was a strong-willed woman, right? Where was that will now?
She put her arms around him, lifted her face, kissed him very gently, said, "Come with me." She led him gently but firmly toward the kitchen door, then abruptly pushed him into the lounge and shut the door between them.
She sagged against the door and groaned. She had to clean this room up. Which meant she had to be capable of feeling an emotion that wasn't lust.
She was going to need a minute.
Y’Roden stared blankly at the door for a moment, "Ok... that was a very firm no... I can respect that." He sat down abruptly on the floor and stared at the wall.... He felt watched....
Looking over he found the Fire Dancer staring at him curiously. "Hi, have a seat. It is NOT safe to go in there right now." He really, really needed a drink.... something very strong....
Stumbling to his feet he wandered off to his bedroom. There was a brandy flask in there with his name on it.
Okay, she could do this. Heck, if the elders of her mother's people ever found out she'd made a mess like this they'd scalp her. Probably after asking her why she was still alive and where she'd been for the last thousand years.
So, she would give Y’Roden a gift, though not the one she so longed to give him. She sat on the floor, closed her eyes, and touched the room's vibrations, steeling herself against their effect. Mostly. She had to find something that was close enough to lust that she wouldn't have to alter the vibration much, but far enough away to be safe.
When she was finished, there was sweat running down her back and a little smirk on her face. The kitchen was a happy place. It was a mischievous, playful, twinkling happiness with a certain unpredictability to it.
She staggered out into the lounge. Y’Roden wasn't there, but the fire dancer was, and he was staring at her, wide-eyed. She clicked her tongue in annoyance and did up her shirt. She just forgot things. "Where did he go?"
She realized the man was indicating the bedroom, and paused. But it would be terribly rude to leave without saying goodbye...
It took awhile, and much rifling through dresser drawers, but Y’Roden did finally find the flask. Sitting on the edge of the bet he happily tilted it back and drank to his little hearts content.
That was much better....
Wow... the ceiling looked really cool... and this bed was comfy... neato....
Ghet stood cautiously in the doorway for a minute, then went over where he could see her.
Could she smell alcohol? Well, fair enough...
"I um fixed it for you. Your kitchen is now safe. How are you feeling?"
Y’Roden blinked blearily up at Ghettie and grinned, "I'm feelin pretty good, you can feel me for yourself if you don't believe me. Drink?" He grabbed her hand and pulled her down beside him, pressing the flask into her hand. "My Lisse Nwalme, you wound me so." He kissed her nose and let his head fall back on the mattress.
He wasn't making any sense, but he didn't really care, "Safe is it? This is a good thing... I think... maybe." Gods... she was slowly driving him quite mad.... "How do you do that anyway?" he meant the mood tweaking. Curiosity got the best of him, and he brushed her soul with his own, it was a warm and tingly feeling... and was probably a bad idea. But bad ideas seemed to be the theme for the day.
Ghet's better judgement had has as big a run as it was getting. She giggled as he pulled her down onto his bed, kicked off her shoes and sat cross-legged beside him. "I don't want to hurt you, honey, not ever." She took a drink from the flask and thought. There were things she wasn't supposed to talk about, things she didn't want to talk about, but he did deserve an explanation for what had just happened, and she needed to know what he'd done, too. She wouldn't survive a reoccurrence.
"It's a long story. Want to hear a long story?" Damn, but he was easy to talk to. "A long, wow, a really long time ago now, I was in a bit of a mess. The kind of mess you get into when a friend kills himself and leaves you a note telling you it was your fault. Anyway, I went home, and my mum took me to this... place. Where she grew up. I'm not supposed to tell anyone about it. They taught me how to... tune in to the emotional vibrations of a place. Anyone can do it if they know how. You know how, sometimes, you walk into an empty house and you get a feeling about it? This was a happy place, that kind of thing? If the same emotion is felt in the same place for a long time, or a very violent emotion for a shorter time, the place holds onto those vibrations. I can't read people, I want to emphasise that. If someone was say in here feeling really angry, and then he left, and you stood where he'd been, I wouldn't be able to tell the anger wasn't coming from you. And it doesn't work outside. I'm not empathic, though the difference is fairly technical."
She sighed. This was the tricky bit. "Anyone can be taught to feel the vibrations, but only a few are strong-willed, self-controlled, enough to affect them. You have to be capable of resisting the emotion that already there, and projecting another one strongly enough to change the course of the vibrations. It's only supposed to be done in emergencies. I've just done it twice. If anyone knew, I'd be in deep shtuck." She frowned. "But there was no way I could have produced anything that... powerful. So, what happened?"
Y’Roden listened with wrapt attention to Ghet's explanation, he was fairly tipsy, but he managed to make sense of it. "Wow... I've never run into that particular talent before," he mused." His brain was stuck on the fact that she never wanted to hurt him, he liked that.
"What happened? Well..." He cleared his throat a little bit and rolled on his side to look at her. "I'll tell you, but it can't go past you ok? It’s a family secret that has put both An'Thaya and my life at risk countless times. It has destroyed both of our lives...." A rather dark expression crossed his face and he sighed, "I can never get back what this particular... gift... has taken away."
Ghet gave a sad little smile. "Very few people know they've run across it even if they have. It's a very well-kept secret." She reached down and pushed back his fringe, her fingers lightly brushing his forehead. "You don't have to tell me if you don't want to. I already know I shouldn't use my talents around you. But... I'm a very good listener, and believe me, you can trust me with your life." Her lips twitched. "Nothing gets past me."
Her heart ached for his pain, though the responsible part of her was trying to work out, just what did she feel for him? A very great deal of... something.
He nearly lost it for a moment, his fringe was very... sensitive... playing with it like that was a very dangerous thing. He maintained control in knowing how she meant the touch, and kept reminding himself of it as he studied her denim blue eyes.
"I want to tell you," he decided, his lip twitched up in a half smile and he sat up, turning to face her. "It is a little difficult to explain... so bear with me." Raising one closed hand up before her he opened it slowly, revealing a small ball of hand fire. "Magic is easy enough to see... and for some... easy enough to use. When it’s in play... even a mortal can feel its use." He let the handfire die out and reached out to take one of her hands, placing it beneath his, her palm touching knuckles. "Now... close your eyes... then open your mind and feel.... you will see what I mean."
As her lids slid shut he pulled on the Aethyr a little, creating another small ball of fire and watching her face, waiting for the change of expression that came with recognition. He felt the magic himself, the warm tingly feeling on his skin that always made him feel.... euphoric.
Ghet had had magic used around her, and against her, many times in her life. But she'd never studied it. It was a perversity she shared with her husband, that they simply refused to look closely at these things, to consider their implications and their own natural talents. Life was simpler that way. It was why she was so insistent that what she did was not a talent, or a power, but a learnt skill.
But now, holding Y’Roden’s hand in her own, she could quiet clearly feel him use his power, feel the pull in the room, and it was suddenly quite obvious to her that what she did was quite closely related to what he did.
And she could feel the pleasure in it. Her lips parted, she opened her eyes and met his, knowing there was more to come.
Y’Roden met Ghetsuhm's gaze with a smile, his eyes crinkling at the outside corners. "That is probably one of the simplest spells I know, it draws very little power, and doesn't draw very much from the Aethyr. But, I figure since you don't have much experience with this sort of thing, its best to start small." He chuckled softly, and winked at her almost playfully.
That brings us to me... and the genetic default of my bloodline. I am what we have come to call a magic magnifying glass, a focal point of power. He took her hand and moved it so her palm was firmly set over his heart. "Elves by nature are magical, we live longer, tap into nature easier.... but the D’Riels go beyond even that." He gave her hand a squeeze and held it firmly against his chest, "Close your eyes and count the heartbeats.... and I will show you what I am."
Ghet's cynical side was suggesting that this was the single smoothest seduction she'd ever experienced, from either side. She'd fought so hard to get her hands off his body, and here they were going right back on. But she trusted him, totally. She gave her trust very easily. She was often wrong.
She placed her hand on his chest and closed her eyes. She felt the warmth, the smoothness of his skin, pushed beyond that with only a little regret, smiled as she felt his heart beat. The rhythm worked its way into her head, and, though she was unaware of it, her on heart slowed to match.
Then she waited.
Y’Roden slowed his breathing and simply listened, he could actually hear Ghet's heartbeat slow to match his own. He opened up his mind, drawing her onto the Aethyr plane with him, his astral form shimmering with what could only be taken as laughter as it floated around hers. Now here... is where magic lives... Around them they could see the bedroom... and themselves, but in an odd pastel shaded vista. Raw energy swirled in little eddies in the air, merging in and out of solid objects.
Watch.... He directed her attention to his free hand which his body had raised.... the little eddies swirled towards it, slowly blending together in an intricate pattern that suddenly flared to life. Handfire, as it was seen from the Aethyr plane. That is magic at work.... now.... I'll magnify it.
The entire room shifted suddenly, the eddies expanding outwards before they collapsed in on themselves, shrinking to a pinpoint in front of the elf’s chest. It hovered there for a moment, and then, within the space of a breath, the handfire leapt up in a gout of flame. Arching like some sort of mutant comet it spun around their bodies, leaving a spiralling circle of fire that lifted Ghet's hair from her shoulders, but never touched her. It was rather surreal to watch from the detached astral view.
Just a small example, of how a simple spell can be made much more.... in the wrong hands it can do a lot of damage... even a mortal such as yourself can manipulate magic through me. Well... a female mortal in any case... As he spoke he let them drift back, eventually opening his eyes to look at Ghet. He smiled a bit, watching her hair float about in the wake of the fires current.
Ghet lost all capacity for rational thought. She was quite simply blown away by this world she had never been exposed to before. It was beautiful, and literally power-full.
She was sensitive to energy in general, and watching it swirl around her now, she gasped, then laughed. And yet, it was not lost on her, what the two of them could do together. The kitchen was nothing. Between them they could give happiness on a planetary scale.
Or pain.
Power had never held temptations for her. She was quite sure that, given enough power, she would simply screw up on a massive scale. She also knew of others that didn't share her reservations.
She felt a shadow of regret as Y’Roden returned them. It was not something she would see again. Her skin felt alive with electricity, her hair was floating around her head. She pulled Y’Roden close to her, and tempered her joy for a moment. "I understand."
She thought she had been gifted beyond her expectations to find one man she could love. Now she knew there were three.
In Y’Roden’s view the Aethyr plane paled in comparison to the look in Ghetsuhm's eyes at that moment. He had never seen anything quite like it, and the Prince had an intense fear all of a sudden that he never would again. His heart constricted in his chest and he sucked in a breath of air... She could not have said anything to him that would have moved him more, or that might have held more meaning.
She was absolute perfection, and it took every ounce of control the elf had not to lay her back and take her right then and there. But he had promised... no pushing.... no pressuring.... she was a married woman and he didn't have the right. "You make it all pale in comparison," he said softly, "You make the shadows go away." He kissed her softly for a moment before he managed to tear himself away with a strangled groan.
His words brought tears to her eyes. She had been manipulating the vibrations, and that always left her own emotions raw and exposed. She took his kiss gratefully, wanting more.
When he tore himself away, she knew she was hurting him.
She knew if she kept on seeing him like this, one day they would slip. She didn't want to stop seeing him. He was so unlike her husband; there were things she could say to Y’Roden she could never say to anyone else. He made her laugh.
She could very easily love him. All she would have to do was let go.
Was it too late? She reached out a hand to him, brushed his arm. "Y’Roden. Please." Tears spilt down her cheeks now. "Don't love me. If you love me you will die. Oh gods, I..." It was useless to tell him she hadn't meant it to happen. And she hadn't entirely meant it to not happen, either. With a sob, she wound her arms around his neck and pulled his head down to hers.
She had never been able to withstand pain.
"Lisse cale," Y’Roden breathed, "I think I'm in more danger of dying if I don't." Gathering her into his arms he held her close, breathing in the soft scent of Ginseng as he kissed the top of her head. "Please don't cry.... Its much to late to ask me not to love you.... it was to late the first time I saw you smile."
Letting out a ragged sigh he tightened his grip on her for a moment, "The word love once met something very different to me.... I never quite understood what it really meant until I met you." Tilting her chin with gentle fingers he managed a smile as their eyes met, "You give me hope, that there might still be the strength in me to drive out the darkness.... For a man that has never truly known the light... that’s an incredible gift."
His fingers traced the soft skin of her cheek, lingering on her lips as he struggled for words. "You brought laughter back into my life, genuine heartfelt laughter. You taught me that I could touch a woman and feel pleasure without pain... I trust you with what is in my heart and thoughts..." He trailed off... realizing his words were not helping the situation any. "I don't mean to cause you pain Ghetsuhm... tell me to leave you alone and I will... if its what you really want.... what you really need.... then tell me to walk away."
From his first words she was no longer thinking, only feeling. How could she resist such words? She kissed his fingers as they brushed over her lips. "There is darkness in me, too, my love. And there is such strength in you, I can feel it."
Her head was absolutely spinning. She could not think. She only wanted.
"I don't want you to leave. I just want you." She drew a deep shuddering breath and raised her face to be kissed. "And anyway," she muttered, "This is your bedroom."
He had been waiting to hear her say those words for a very long time and for a moment he closed his eyes, letting the reality of them sink in. The tone in which she had inflected love caused his heart to pound, and his entire body reacted to those four little words I just want you..
.
He opened his eyes, and found himself staring down into depthless denim blue pools. All sense of propriety he once had flew out the window as he slid his hand into Ghet's hair at the nape of her neck, supporting her head as he bent to kiss her. Her lips tasted of brandy, and the contact set off a spark in his body that made his head spin.
His arm tightened around her waist as he drew her closer, suddenly crushing her to his chest as a surge of adrenaline raced through his veins.
He kissed her and she knew, her own wildness was breaking out. Would it frighten or delight him to find her so full of fire? Well, she had no choice in the matter any more. A low growl escaped her throat as she pulled off his shirt. Still kissing him, she propelled him towards his bed, intent on removing the eight-inch height difference and get herself some decent access.
Gods, she was going out of her head! She pulled back a little, her eyes drugged with passion. "I'm sorry. If you need me to slow down you better tell me now."
Y’Roden found himself growling in return when Ghet pulled back, an almost feral look in his emerald eyes as he pulled her forward again, nearly tearing her shirt as he pulled it from her shoulders. He let her push him back on the bed and sitting just on the edge he drew her forward between his legs, hands firm on her waist as he gazed up at her with a slightly glazed look.
"Indonya," the word was barely audible, he seemed to have forgotten how to breathe. His lips brushed over her stomach in feathery kisses and he let his hands slide up to cup her breasts, "Eru nis." His hands dropped her waist, lifting her off her feet as he fell onto his back. He held her up for a moment, watching her red locks tumble around her face before he lowered her onto his chest, groaning as her warm skin came in contact with his. Tangling his fingers in her hair her drew her head down and kissed her feverishly, sure he was quite loosing his mind.
It was hands on her breasts that drove away the last of her control, as it so often was. She let out a ragged groan as he pulled her down, surrounding his head entirely with her hair as she kissed him fervently, pressing her chest into his.
She wrenched her mouth from his and began to work her way down his body, biting his chest hard. She ran little nipping kisses down his stomach as her hands worked to free him from his pants.
She was skipping her favourite trick. Teeth would take too long in the present circumstances.
Naked, he was glorious.
Y’Roden found himself completely at Ghet's mercy, and discovered he rather liked it. For the first time in several millennia he gave over control. His back arched and he gasped as she nipped her way down his body, growling a bit when she crossed over the ragged scar on his abdomen. For once however, the memory of how that scar had came to be didn't enter his mind.
Ghet had never thought what her own body might look like had she been forced to bear all the scars she'd had inflicted on her in her life. There was a lot to be said for technology...
She pulled herself away from adoring Y’Roden’s body for long enough to get rid of the last of her clothes. She walked around his bed, conscious of his eyes on her body, lay down, stretched out, and pulled him into her arms. She kissed him, glorying in the feeling of his bare skin against hers. "Y’Roden," she breathed, running her hands down his back. And then, barely audible even for him, "Please..."
He was quite positive he had never seen anything so beautiful in his life, and it took several moments for it to register in his brain that she was giving herself to him. Sweeter words were never spoken...
His hand touched her hip, drawing a slow line to her softness as he lowered his head to kiss her, his fingers wreaking a slow torment on her, and then within her. He savoured the moment, waiting to take her until her body arched in release. Settling his weight between her thighs he worshipped her body with questing hands before he entered her, something between a gasp and a groan ripping from his chest as he claimed her.
Ghet drew Y’Roden deeper into her body, wrapping her legs around his. She had tortured him long enough before they'd started this, and now she encouraged him to abandon all control, to find his completion in her as aggressively as he wished, confident her passion was a match for his. His hands had driven her completely over the line, and her only wish was to take him over, too.
What seemed an eternity of desire and unexpressed emotion came tumbling together, if it is ever possible to be both rough and tender at once the Prince of Corin managed it. A bittersweet surge of joy was his in knowing Ghet belonged to him for just this short time; he took what she was willing to give with a hunger he had never felt before.
The moment came all to soon in his mind when he warmed her body with his seed, control wrenched from him by his overwhelming need for her. He didn't want it to end.... selfish of him perhaps, but the heart has a mind of its own.
Ghetsuhm experienced a moment of pure triumph as Y’Roden filled her. She had given him an instant of happiness: she only wished it could be more.
She expired beside him, and gave him a smile of pure bliss. She leaned over and kissed him gently on the mouth. She wanted to lie here and stroke his hair and not worry about anything.
How long would it be before someone missed her? Hell, no-one would think of looking for her here, right? She would be safe for a while, and even if she wasn't, she couldn't just leave. Well, she didn't want to.
She smiled at him, tenderness and laughter combined. "I think we may just have blown that list, my love."
It took a moment for Y’Roden to clue in... list? Oh! The half-elf laughed outright and drew her against him, "OH yes... right out of the water," he murmured, kissing her softly. "Gods... Aminmela ile." Why he kept lapsing into elvish was beyond him, he seemed to loose his grasp on Common when expressing himself to Ghet.
His expression grew sober for a moment and he reached up to brush her hair from her face. "Where do we go from here?" He was terribly sure he knew the answer, and it was already tearing him apart. As if attempting to keep the answer from her lips he kissed her again, his arms tightening around her. He was all too aware he was going to have to let go soon, and the chance to love her this way might never come again...
Her heart ached, even as she totally accepted his frankness. Dammit, why hadn't they done this before she got married? She knew the answer of course: every relationship she'd had before Chase had been loveless and disposable, and the Prince of Corin was worth much more than that.
"Well, eventually, I get out of this bed, go have a shower, and go back home. And the next time you see me in public, you'll just have to smirk at me quietly."
She rolled slightly, and the red vixen on her shoulder peeked out from under her hair. "Oh, Y’Roden, this is one thing, but to systematically have an affair with you, that's quite another. I don't think I can do that. And it's not fair on you. You deserve a woman who is yours alone. You certainly deserve better than me. I wish I could give you certainty, even if it's knowing for sure we'll never... be together like this again. But I can't do that, either: yesterday I would have sworn you'd never have me." A familiar wave of frustration was taking her: her anger at her own shortcomings.
Y’Roden studied her face for a moment, his fingers tracing the tattoo on her shoulder. "There is no one better than you," it was a simple statement of fact. He smiled, "No guarantees or promises then.... just, whatever happens... happens. I can live with that." He sighed and buried his face in her hair, "I know you are married.... I know you love Chase, and damn me for wishing it were otherwise."
Sensing her frustration he raised his head again, meeting her denim eyes with darkened emerald green. "When ever you need a place to hide, you know you can come to me don't you? Yes... I love you, but I fully understand the position you are in. Feel free to tell me anything; it won't go further than these pointed ears... I promise." He paused for a moment, the chuckled, "Consider me your safe haven, and no, not because I'm hoping to roll you into bed when you are vulnerable, but because I want to know that you are alright."
"There is no one better than you,"
Ghet smiled quietly. He always seemed to know what to say to disarm her. "You need to get out more, boy. The world is full of perfectly nice, not-married women who can do things like stay faithful and have children and stuff. But... thank you. For everything. I don't get vulnerable very often, but please feel free to roll me when I am."
She kissed him, a light, friendly kiss, and to her surprise, her desire for him stirred again, warmer, less urgent, this time. She kissed him again, more deeply, communicating that desire. Her smile this time was a little fierce. "What the phrase I'm looking for? Oh yes. One for the road?"
Y’Roden returned her kiss, shifting Ghet's body beneath his as her desire sparked his own. "Nice... faithful... and children... mean nothing to me," he murmured between kisses. And yes, he meant it... it was then that he realized Ghetsuhm didn't really know anything about his past, what he had been at one time. He was simply grateful for freedom, and the ability to love.
He communicated his emotion in a slow pleasurable fashion as he took her again, thoroughly loving the woman that had somehow stolen his heart.
Ghet held their loving long, agonisingly slow, for as long as she could bear it, until their bodies rebelled and she cried out in shuddering climax. She kissed his hair as his head sank to her shoulder and she encouraged him to rest on her.
She knew she should feel guilty, and she didn't. She'd made this man happy, given him something he desperately needed, and she wouldn't have hurt her husband unless he chanced to find out about it. She wasn't going to tell him, and neither was Y’Roden. That said, Dhajan was dead, and Christian was as good as dead if he should ever come near her again. It was not a fate she wished for Y’Roden.
She nuzzled his cheek, and realised she was in serious danger of falling asleep here. She gave a little yawn. "I should go."
Y’Roden sighed into Ghet's shoulder, the thought of letting go not a pleasant one. She had given him more than he deserved however, and he was well aware of it. He kissed her again, then rolled to the side, careful not to crush her in the process. "Thank you love," he said softly, brushing a stray lock of hair from her cheek, "For shining a little light in my life."
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