Chapter 9: Preference

She pulled out some of her sexier dance moves, the shyly seductive come-hither ones that flowed in waves from the tips of her upraised fingers to her toes. She eyed Rivuk through the strands of lights. She traced her fingers down her upstretched arm, letting her other arm rest on her head before falling along the curve of her body. Then she let the upstretched arm down, sliding it along her cheek, down her neck and chest before extending it out to him and beckoning him with a finger.

Rivuk just folded his arms and shook his head with a sheepish smile. Fine. It looked like she was going to have to do things the hard way.

She pushed through the lights and ran to Rivuk and Carak, grabbing them both by the arm and pulling them. "Dance with me!" she said.

Carak stepped back. "I'm sorry, your highness," he said, bashfully.

Oh yes, decorum. Treat him like a Child, not a friend. "Fine." Letting go of Carak's arm she grabbed Rivuk's with both hands, tugging playfully. "But Rivuk, you have to dance with me."

"Why does he get to decline but I don't?" Rivuk said with a bemused smile, easily standing his ground.

She fixed him with a smoldering stare and said, in a husky voice, "I thought you wanted me to pull you into something."

His expression lost its amused quality, being replaced by a smile that was more happily bewildered. "Well, when you say it like that..." He allowed Lindsay to pull him through the strands of light.

She began dancing with him, draping her arms around his neck, running them down his body. She remembered his body, his broad, muscular chest, his strong arms that were now holding her waist. Holding her waist like they had before...

She could feel her body responding as she rubbed her hips against his. The pull inside of her as her vagina began to widen and deepen, the growing wetness, the aching need. She closed her eyes, letting her head fall backward as he held her back firmly in his hands, her arms resting loosely on his shoulders as she swayed against him. Her prince. Her noble, heroic, rebellious prince. She lay her head on his chest. She could feel his heartbeat against her cheek. It was pounding so hard, was that because of her? Mmmm... She hoped so.

She looked up to see the strong line of his jaw that came to a narrow point at his chin. Above were his lips, not especially full things, but dark from exertion. She wanted to pull herself up and kiss them. Then there was the pale copper-flecked plane of his cheek aside his straight nose, the cheekbone highlighted in the sangria of his rising blood, and above that, those copper eyes.

He glanced down at her. A smile twisted the side of his lips. She felt the rush as he spread his wings and, suddenly, they were up in the air near the point of the pyramid, spinning around in slow circles as warm gusts of air kept them aloft. She leaned back, letting her head and arms hang out, her fingers splayed to feel the wind as he held her body securely to him, letting the music course through her soul. She wanted him, she had to have him, there was only one thing she had to do to be sure.

She pulled herself back, her elbows on his shoulders, her fingers tangling in his black hair. She looked down, deep into those copper eyes. They were filled with integrity and determination and- Oh! She could see the tenderness of love, the sparks of lust, the unwavering strength and conviction in his feelings as he gazed back into her eyes. It felt like her heart stopped. Her lips hung, slightly parted, just above his.

Tiny, warm drops of water began softly pattering on them. Suddenly, they were caught in a downpour of gentle rain. She wiped the rain from his cheeks with her hands. Her brow rested on his as her fingers moved down his neck, his shoulders, up his back, and into his hair as their lips met.