It was roaring within him with wild abandon, spreading like a damn tsunami and taking him unaware. The strangest sensation. Something like..
Something like joy.
Something he'd never experienced. He was certain. This was new, and terrifying, and irritating. And addicting. He never wanted it to stop. People like him just don't get such things. They don't get beautiful women with love in their eyes. They get blood at their feet, blood across their face, murderous glares from those that don't even know what murder is.
But here, in this dream-like moment, this impossible meeting..
Here, he was free.
Here, he was with her.
Her head tilted back for him and he groaned, and spread more kisses over her skin, barely reining himself in to take her slower, savor her, less desperate. Taking her less selfishly, no longer clinging to the tiny seconds that would end so quickly. He may not have much time, but he'd damn well make sure she enjoyed it too. Make it worth it.
Soft tastes of her skin, pressing as much genuine affection into her warmth as he could. He loved that she was here, so near, so he kissed it into her neck. He loved that she didn't run from this haunted monster, that she met him with a secret passion she kept locked away, wouldn't show him. If he had more time, he could... but he wouldn't have more time. So he kissed that into her too. He loved that she healed him, without even knowing him. Or she did know him. Or maybe she didn't...
Whatever. He loved it. And kissed that into her skin too.
Every touch grew more tender, every heartbeat more painful. Like he was sinking a blade into his own chest. Maybe Heartfire wasn't as lethal a dagger as this one. Because this was seriously starting to hurt like hell. And yet he couldn't seem to stop, didn't even want to. Let it hurt, then. Let it kill him if he dies like this, with her. He should've wondered why it matters so much, but he didn't want to. He didn't want to question anything in that moment.
He did what he always had.
He pushed it all away where it doesn't exist anymore, in the far recesses of his mind. Nothing else could touch him now but her.
"Dovev," he heard her say, a strained plea that honestly turned him on a hell of a lot more, and yet punctured his chest deeper at the same time.
"Say my name."
He stiffened and went still, pulse skyrocketing and breath stuttering across her skin. Fuck. Ugh, fuck. He's going to lose her. Already. Again? Fuck. He could play it off, call her Baby and be done with it, distract her with better things, so many incredible things. Somehow he didn't think that would work just now. And it kind of felt wrong. For whatever reason.
Instead, he paced suddenly away from her, body set in hard lines and clearly agitated. He shifted so instantaneously from enjoyment, almost a ghost of happiness, to immediate anger and frustration. Always one extreme or another.
No! he shot back with a glare, spinning to face her again with cold, hard eyes, and marching right back to stop before her, his face near hers. You don't want that, he told her less sharply, warned her in a soft, dark voice.
She couldn't possibly want that.
Baby I loved you. But only for a night
Some moments can be worth more than lifetimes
