Fantasy One

dark. it's raining and damn, no lights.
fucking car.

Thing died. in the rain. he couldn't have known she was coming.
damn the cold fall weather, she thought, and notes with annoyance that her jeans and tank top are wet - her cardigan sweater no real help against the rain.
thank god, at least, for waterproof mascara.

how to get a ride?

okay, not so hard. always worked for daisy duke, right?
cardigan off - damn, that's cold - sleeves tied around her waist, embracing her hips.
cash, keys, ID in front pocket - lock the purse in the trunk.
wait, what the hell - bra, too. if you're gonna get a ride, get one quick.

tucking the tank top in a little tighter - gotta see the goods- she walks.

it doesn't take long.

he prowls through the curves with the top up, swearing against the rain and wishing he could see.. something. of interest.
and does.
almost drives past the small car on the shoulder - no one inside
a shape, ahead.
curvy one.
hmmmmm.

it looks like one he wants.
she looks like one he wants.
she looks like the one he's wanted.
couldn't be.
but, maybe.

he stops the car next to her. rain falling on tank top, wet hair streaming on shoulders
it's red. he likes it.
curling, wet, in the rain.
nipples small, taut with cold. he feels them on his tongue in his head, and decides.
green eyes grateful, red lips smiling,
"thanks."

he smiles. it's her. she just doesn't know it yet.

she gets in and wonders at coincidence and looks at him closer.
it's gotta be.
nah, not possible, she thinks.
"so, hi," she says.
he doesn't speak.
if he'd say something she'd be sure, she knows his voice, but he's silent.

"umm, you can just drop me at the nearest mechanic-ish place", she says.
he drives, says nothing.
she keeps glancing, but falls silent out of uncertainty and a little fear.

he turns, hard right into night, a forest-for-the-trees place, little road
invisible.
he says nothing.
she must have decided to come visit, and run out of gas.
she hasn't figured out it's him, yet, he's certain.
she thinks, but she's not totally sure, and that's all the more nerve-wracking.

the wrapped cardigan and braless tight, wet shirt doesn't escape his notice. little slut, he thinks.
she wants to play, fine. let's play.

he stops the car, turns to her, reaches under the seat to pull out the knife he bought just last week -
bought for her.
fear in her eyes - hot, blinding for a second. ohhh, shit, she's thinking.
it's either him and we're playing, or it's not and we're not, or it is him, but he's not playing, and ohhhh shit.

"don't move."

too scared to speak, she stares at him, confusion playing across her features... the is-he or isn't-he debate raging, unsure, not sure enough either way to risk disobedience, half-wondering
am i gonna be murdered by a dead ringer for the man i love who just happens to drive an identical car?
how weird is that?
his voice isn't right. its hard and cold and calculating, not soft and husky and warm and sexy and funny like his. still... could be. or maybe not.
shit.

he stares at her.
god.
take ravage possess... words flood his brain
fuck take own mine mine mine
he's hard as a rock. he blinks, backs away, gets out of the car.
walks around to her passenger side, opens the door.

"get out."

she's numb with cold and fear and confusion and no small arousal - she doesn't argue.
he holds the knife to her throat. says nothing. the point is sharp, and he runs it lightly across her neck, down her chest between breasts..
he grabs the shirt, shoves his knife-hand beneath it and cuts, long down the front
rips with both hands

oh.

breasts white skin pink rosebud nipples wet streaming little thin red mark
i put it there, he thinks, looking at the knifepoint and back at her skin
and hardens further

oh. her heart hammers, pulse races, i'm going to be raped.
or killed. or both. or neither. oh, holy cats.

he moves closer, shoves her roughly to the ground.
she cries out from shock and a little pain as he rolls her to her back, moving up, shoving one knee between her legs.
he waits a second, deciding. jeans, or take the nipples first?

jeans. he slides the knife under the waist and pulls back toward him, hard, slicing. one leg, long slow ripping cut down hip and thigh and knee and ankle
other side, same thing, she's too scared to say a word.

clothes, shredded. he pulls them away from her, discards them in the gravel and mud and holds her down.
white skin with red satin panties still intact, he wants.
the animal inside roars in his head, surges forward, and he slices red satin roughly
ripping, she whimpers
oh, it's her. he takes her breasts, one at time, in his mouth
biting, sucking, licking, holding tight, tighter, squeezing breasts and hips under his hands
holding her down

the tattoo is there. she's shaved, completely.
it's her, and his heart thuds and he knows
and he doesn't care. the animal leaps in his belly and he growls deep in his throat
and ravishes

he holds her down with one hand, fumbles with the other.
she sees his eyes. recognition. he knows me, he knows. it's him.
has to be.
but... what if i'm wrong?
what if i'm right? she's wet inside and out, despite herself.

he's dressed, mostly and ice cold glaring at her searching eyes.

"you know you wanted this."

she did. she does. "no, I didn't", she says.

"liar. slut. you took off your sweater because you were hot? i don't think so."

she's silent, hot and angry and scared all at once and staring.

he pushes her thighs farther apart with one hand and shoves into her roughly
ohhhh, godddd....

he fucks her relentlessly, pounding, ripping into her hard and fast, greedy, she's hot and wet and tight and pulsing.
she gasps, bites her lip, whimpers with pain and arousal and fear and pleasure
he leans into her, fucking hard and fast and bites her nipples, her shoulders, her neck, her lips
kisses her
hard
lips against lips against tongues against teeth
biting, sucking, , clashing, swirling cyclone chasing thunderstorms

it's him, oh god, it really is him, and she moves with him, moans into his mouth
"ohhhh, it's you.."
bodies entangle in the rain and the mud and the gravel and the grass as they pound into each other, rocks and surf
he takes more, wants more
she yields, still scared, a little, but certain now of his identity
she caresses his cock inside her, velvet around him, holding him tight inside her,
his hands move from holding her arms down, into her hair and over her body
he caresses, strokes, still urgent, greedy, but gentler
hands run under her hips, picking her up, arms around her, over her
her fingers run up his back, nails raking
legs winding around his
fire in the belly of the dragon, she thinks, and feels him fucking her hard
battering her clit with brute force hot and hard and rhythmic
and the ascent steepens with his kiss

she comes.. imploding around his cock.... waves and waves of heat in the cold rain
she moans, whimpers his name
he stiffens, surges, comes hard inside her, bathing her in his heat
calls her to him
binding her
bonding
want, need, lust, love
he possesses her
she belongs to him, now, forever
"mine", he growls. "you're mine, now, mine."
"yours, yes.... mmmm " she moans, softly
enfolds him
as they become each other's

as they already were
as they were meant to be.