Party to Consummation

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Are we there yet?
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Recidiva
Recidiva
28 Followers

Amanda was starting to get a little jumpy, this feeling that started at the back of her neck, like the hair standing up on end. She couldn't get over it and it was distracting. She was starting to look behind herself nervously. Damned if she wasn't keeping her eyes on the doors. She tried to shrug this off and wasn't doing a good job. The party was a wash, she decided. She'd make her goodbyes and be on her way. Somewhere with locked doors. She hated this sense of being oversensitive to crowds, but it did strike sometimes.

Scanning the crowd for faces, she spotted her host in profile and drew up beside Kevin, opened her mouth to make her excuses. Kevin turned and beyond him she caught sight of a set of green eyes that made her knees buckle. Not here. He can't be here.

Kevin turned to her with concern and says "Amanda, are you okay?"

Green eyes turned and saw her, settled on her features. A smile with a bit of shock and a bit of promise reached his lips and eyes. "Amanda."

Kevin turns to look at the speaker, Vincent. "You two know each other?"

Amanda has turned pale and her eyes are wide.

Vincent smiles warmly. "Yes, Amanda and I go way back. Don't we, Amanda?"

Amanda swallows hard once and nods, almost imperceptibly, her brown eyes locked with Vincent's green.

Vincent's eyes trail down from her face to her hand, lingering for a moment, and then saying "Your drink is almost gone, let me fix that for you."

Vincent walks by Kevin, who slaps him on the shoulder in passing, then turns back to the remaining circle of friends. Taking Amanda's arm, Vincent heads toward the bar.

Amanda's breath pulls in a tight inhalation at the feel of his hand on her elbow, guiding her as her feet moved along stiffly. Reaching the bar he took her glass from her and put it down, and captured her hand, trailing the tips of his fingers over a void where a band had been last time he saw her. "Your wedding ring, Amanda. Where is it?"

She stared at him, mute. Just being around him made it impossible for her to think. She shook her head slightly, she didn't even know if it was to clear it or just to deny what was happening.

Who knew how it had started? Amanda and Vincent had worked together. They'd gotten to be friends, and then close friends. He'd always had a rainbow of women in his life. She'd been married. Safe. Close. Business. A humorous comfort to each other through the work day. They helped each other out, stayed late to finish projects together. Shared takeout food and war stories. Covered for each other. He talked about his women, she talked about her man. They helped each other through the day, developed strategies and somewhere along the way, admiration. Sounding boards.

Over time, though, they became edgy around each other. He stopped having a rainbow of women stories. She stopped smiling when talking about her husband. Then stopped even mentioning him. Their eyes got hungrier. They stopped touching at all, even casually.

One day he'd stepped up behind her while she was in a supply closet, closed and locked the door carefully, and told her not to turn around. Just to listen.

He'd poured out his heart, his thoughts, his love. She'd stood in stunned silence. She didn't move, didn't speak. Long after the door had clicked shut behind her, when he'd gone, she broke down to her knees and started to cry. She rested her head against the door, one hand pressed up against it, knowing he was on the other side, somewhere.

She'd gotten up on numb, shaking limbs, and tendered her resignation within minutes. She lied and claimed there had been a death in her family. Since she was obviously in such distress, and inconsolable, she gathered her things to respectful silence, and was gone.

He hadn't attempted to contact her. He'd assumed his confession had disgusted her and she'd fled. Just one more wrong turn. He'd asked for silence and he'd gotten it. If she'd answered at all...just one word, he'd have heard it in her voice.

She knew. Knew how much she was in love with him, thought she could bear it herself since he had seemed so remote. But with his words echoing in her head every day since, she'd left her job, left her husband, left her life. There was only him. And he was gone. And she wasn't worthy of him. What could she have to offer him? Terror? She'd made a mess of her life in five minutes. It was all gone. All what was left was wanting him. She was trying to rid herself of that. He made her unlike herself, something she couldn't bear.

She was trying to shake him off, like malaria, fever and chills, cyclically feeling better and then much, much worse.

He had turned to ice.

And here they were, she had all the raw truths but couldn't bear them. He was cauterized and wanting to taunt her. How much time had passed? Months. He's infuriated by how strongly he feels about this woman under his fingertips and she's terrified by how strongly she responds to this man. They both thought they'd healed, and they were both wrong.

His fingernails were digging into her wrist and she winced "Vin. You're hurting me." Her voice and eyes were pleading.

Seeing her in pain made him want to soothe it, until he was pissed off at himself for thinking such a thing. "Amanda, we both know I can't hurt you."

Her eyes closed and her head dropped and all he said was "We're leaving. I need some answers from you."

Pale and nerveless, she was guided out as if sleepwalking. Her heart was pounding and she felt like she was going to faint. She focused on the feel of his hand on her elbow, a dream state, sustained by his touch. Weightless.

He, on the other hand, was irritated by how good she smelled, what the feel of her skin was doing to him, and redoubled his efforts to remain calm and precise.

Calm and precision lasted for only a few minutes. Leaving the home, she was dizzy and lightheaded, and along the sidewalk to his car her heel twisted in a crack and she fell back to avoid wrenching her ankle. He interpreted this as trying to escape and his temper snapped.

Turning on her, his eyes were angry and she couldn't take it any more. Her cold hands captured his face and she said "Please. Please, stop. Please. Vin. Please. Don't look at me like that."

Dragging her closer, his voice was soft and angry "Why not, Amanda? How should I look at you?"

Trembling, her voice cracked into a soft whimper and her eyes closed. "Because I can't stand to have you angry at me. Please, don't."

He concentrates on calming down if only to get some sense out of her. "Amanda. Okay, okay." Pulling her closer to rest her head against his shoulder, he strokes her hair. "Okay. Let's just talk. I'm calm." He wasn't. He wasn't the least bit calm.

Neither was she. Being in his arms was terrifying and it wasn't getting any easier to say what she had to say. "Vin. I missed you. I missed you so much."

"What the hell. Amanda, you could have found me if you'd wanted."

Her voice was harsh "So could you."

"You ran the hell away from me."

"Oh. Yeah. Right." They both chuckled lightly. "Vin, I'm sorry...I can't...I couldn't..." she trailed off helplessly.

"Tell me."

She drew a deep breath and tried to speak slowly. "I fell in love with you. I fell in love with you so much my life dissolved. I couldn't...can't think of anything else. Nothing else. The day you told me how you felt, I couldn't face you, I still wanted to be strong. But I couldn't. I'm never strong around you."

His smile was brief before he bent to kiss her neck, wresting a soft moan from her. His mouth traveled to her ear and he whispered "I want you to tell me everything you want, everything that makes you weak."

She says softly "Every word you spoke curled into my heart and settled there. I couldn't forget what you said and now it's like your words are tattooed inside me. Written everywhere. With every beat of my heart, your words are in my blood. I can't think about anything else. Wanting you is in every breath I draw. I can't understand how I could want you so much. It doesn't make any sense. I want things to make sense."

This revelation made his guts clench and his spirits soar, along with a few more savage impulses having to do with the way she felt under his hands. Appearing to ignore everything she just said, he goes back to kissing her neck and whispers "Amanda, just how much did you have to drink at that party? You do recognize me, don't you? You don't say this to all the guys who try to kidnap you?"

The teasing is not unexpected from him, he could always make her laugh. Could always make her do anything he wanted. Her voice is throaty and her laugh just a little strangled. "Vin. Just kill me. Okay? Stop trying to kill me and kill me."

His hands were starting to roam over her body, both hands whispering over her waist before settling on her breasts, cradling them and stroking through the fabric of her shirt. "Not yet, honey, I'm not sure you're sober. How many fingers am I holding up?"

Her head tilts back and her laughter is strained and spiced with hunger. "Vin, that's ALL of them. Did you grow an extra hand?"

Moving deliberately, he twists her hair in his hand, tilting her head back up. All teasing gone. He looms over her, taking her hand in his and guiding it to his cock straining at his pants. "That's enough growth for me. How about you? Good enough?"

Her voice is soft and clear. "Take me home."

He crosses his arms over his chest and tilts his head "So no drinking, young lady?"

"It was ginger ale."

"You're of sound mind?"

"No. I'm afraid that's not an option."

"You're of as sound mind as I'm ever going to get you?"

"Yes."

"You're not stupid enough to be suggesting I take you to your home and leave you there?"

"Anything but that."

He envelops her in his arms and engulfs her in a hug, kissing the top of her head, they both stand in a peace that's quiet and jangling at once. "Done."

With that slight peace arranged, they walked to his car and he held the door open for her, fingertips touching and lingering before he closed the door and walked to the other side to get in.

Settling into his seat, he looked forward through the windshield. His hand reached over to hers and he took her hand in his and drew it to his lips for a simple kiss in silence, before he began the motor and started to drive.

With so much said so quickly they sat together in a surreal continuum of silence.

She broke the silence first and said softly "I haven't been able to sleep. Every night I lie awake and I think about you. All the ways I've wanted to touch you. What you'd taste like, watching you laugh. Your eyes. I want to see your eyes in every mood, every light, every angle."

His voice softly followed hers "I've been so angry at you I've wanted to strangle you. I've wanted to break you. I've wanted to hurt you. But that fantasy carries only far enough until the first time I hear you in distress, then I want to kiss you until you're making no sound at all, and then I want to kiss you until you moan. I wanted to hear you apologize for hurting me. I wanted to hear you beg. I still want those things. I feel like I always will."

She could barely be heard over the rumble of the engine, but she said "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. Please. Please, Vin. Forgive me."

He shakes his head slowly once. "There's nothing to forgive, and you're carrying more guilt than I ever wanted you to. But I still...I still want to hear you moan, Amanda. I still need that. Do you understand?"

She says softly "Yes."

"I'm also getting angry at myself that you suffered for any amount of time thinking of touching me. I'd like to fix that. I'd also like to apologize for thrusting myself into your life, causing you pain. I'd love to say that I will apologize for thrusting into your body and probably causing you pain. But I won't."

She swallowed hard. "Okay."

His voice drips like syrup, thick and warm into her blood, "Amanda, I'd love to say that I'm going to go slow. But I won't. I want in and I can't think until I do. I'm going to take you hard and then I'm going to take my time. I'm going to do everything I wanted, in turns."

Her heart was pounding but she found her voice "I've been having trouble sleeping anyway. I don't see any reason to break that streak."

His laughter met the end of her statement and then trailed off, they were near their destination.

Turning off the car and helping her out on her side, he offered her his arm and she walked to the entrance in courtly stride and silence.

Entering a tile foyer, her eyes took in the interior to admire and she formed the words "You have such a beautiful ho-"

Door closed behind them, he spun her around and kissed her hard, pulling her off balance and onto him, then turning them both until she was pinned to the door.

His voice was close to her ear and low as he started stripping her clothes off with his hands, "Do you remember what I told you, in that little closet, Amanda?"

She swallowed hard and nodded.

"Tell me. Tell me what I said." He lifted her up with his hands supporting her ass and thighs, poised to enter, waiting for her to speak.

She said "You told me I belonged to you."

He slammed into her and she gasped from the searing pleasure of accommodating him and her voice keened. He kissed a path to her other ear, dragging his lips across hers and moving on even as her teeth tried to nip and hold him there.

"What else, tell me what else I said."

She gasped and dug her fingernails into his shoulders, leveraging herself harder onto him, taking him deeper, grinding against him. "You told me it'd be true as long as you were alive. Whether I wanted it to be true or not."

Satisfaction washed through his features and a feral arrogance gripped his actions, his fingertips digging into her ass, and his body driving her hard against the door. Her fingernails worked with tight spasm into his shoulder muscles. Deep and driving thrusts that didn't come to a climax so much as barrel down a mountain they'd been climbing together for months, tumbling down the other side as fast and as dizzying as it had been slow and tortuous to climb.

Clinging to each other, their lips trailed over each other's skin, small sounds of pleasure and exploration escaping with the kisses.

She slid down his body and he put her back down on her feet. He smoothed her hair back and kissed the top of her head.

Her lips quirk slightly and she says "You should have done that in the closet." She nods solemnly.

He grabbed her in a bear hug and held on tight. She kicks off her shoes and her light hands start removing the rest of the clothes that never made it all the way off. She says softly "Don't talk. Don't turn around. Don't say anything."

She carefully and slowly took off every bit of clothing and kicked them into a corner. Standing behind him she took his pants all the way off, his shoes, his socks. Standing back up the tips of her fingers grazed the curves of his body. Stepping behind him, her voice was a soft whisper, her fingers moving along his skin in harmony.

"Vincent, you've been haunting me. When I'm awake. When I try to sleep. When I sleep. You're the first thought I have in the morning, and the last one I can remember before I drift off into lonely dreams where I chase your image, like a ghost. You had me hold still to listen, and this is what I've imagined. Having you still, under my hands."

Her fingertips slid over his sweat-cooling skin, raising goose bumps and twitching and shudders like ripples spreading from her hands. She focuses on his back, starting with the broad lines of his shoulders.

"I thought if I'd just said a word in that closet, you'd know how much I'd love you, and you'd feel sorry for me. You've always had so many women. I was selfish, and I wanted all of you. Now I just want...some of you. Something to remember."

Her thumbs drag down along his spine, and she kisses a trail down, tasting his skin with little flicks of her tongue.

"Now that I get to taste you, to touch you, to have you under my hands, I won't have to chase you. I'll be able to remember. And that's enough."

She presses her body to his back and slides her hands down from his collarbone to his waist, her arms locking around him. She presses her ear to his back to hear his heartbeat.

Standing there breathing together in eventual unison, he speaks, his voice spiced with exasperated amusement. "Am I to understand from what you are saying, that you think you have the slightest chance of walking away from me...ever?"

Her voice is quiet "You'll get tired of me. One day. I won't get tired of you."

His hands come around and unclench hers from each other, and he holds onto them. "You are tragically mistaken."

She shrugs and says "You were right. I will belong to you as long as you live."

His head shakes slightly. "I should have made it completely clear. I will also belong to you as long as you live. I'd thought that part was obvious."

Her eyes close and a tear squeezes through her lids and onto the skin of his back. "No, you left out that part."

There's a moment of silence, and then he squeezes her hands and starts to lower them. "I'm going to spend a lot of time trying to make that up to you. But you're not getting out of finishing what you started."

Her hands slide with his and she begins to caress his body again. "Yessir."

Recidiva
Recidiva
28 Followers
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5 Comments
AnonymousAnonymousover 8 years ago
...

Whenever I read this, makes me cry all the time.

AnonymousAnonymousabout 12 years ago
amazing

The passion between them is so intense and well described you can't help but be part of it. There was a point in the story, where he took her against the door, that I literally had to stop reading and compose myself in order to be able to breath again. And that's a first for me.

Joe WordsworthJoe Wordsworthover 16 years ago
Hot.

Very hot. When he's describing that he going to take her... /really/ good. I think this may be my favorite.

AnonymousAnonymousover 16 years ago
Wow

I loved it!!!

AnonymousAnonymousover 16 years ago
tense changes

why do you move from the past to the present narrative tense in such an apparently random way? good story, decent style, but going from 'was' to 'is' and back again soured it for me.

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