Dawn's Innocence

His body was stiff and hard, muscles straining and his erection throbbing in a painful mass of nerve endings on fire. This wasn't about him. It was about her. Pleasuring her. He could wait, or rather, the cold shower he was going to have to take when they were done, could wait. Her breath was hot across his skin as she writhed in bliss beneath him. Her fingers clutched at him and her nails dug into his shoulders.

Kacie stifled a moan of pure undulation as her world splintered into shards of sheer delight beneath his touch. The release pulled her under and held her there, floating in a wonderland of bliss. Fire lapped at her toes and spread along each and every nerve fiber in her body. She trembled and clutched onto Tristen for dear life. His lips were gentle, nuzzling her mouth with tenderly whispered words. His hands and fingers caressed her skin as she drifted downward to Earth again.

She wanted more. More of the feelings he created with his hands and mouth. More of him, all of him, as much of him as she could get. Sprawled out across his bed, her head resting on his pillows, being surrounded by him wasn't enough. She wanted to belong to him, fully and completely. She wanted to claim him. Take him deep inside of her until there was no way to tell where she began and he ended.

Pride surged through Tristen. He'd rocked Kacie's world. She came, for him. He'd been the one to send her sailing into the sky and gently was holding her as she drifted down to earth on a silken cloud of musky desire and want. Her emerald eyes glittered with the bliss of her release. Staring up at him as if he were her entire world and then some, her fingers traced the outline of his lips and rasped against the stubble on his jaw, hooking around his neck to pull him closer. He yielded to her demand, closing his mouth over hers in a desperate, fevered kiss.

Her fingers skated down his spine. Beneath the waistband of his sleep pants. His tongue was busy, sampling the wonder of her lush mouth. What she was doing felt so right. Her hands cupped the bare skin of his butt, caressing and stroking. Her fingers clasped onto his flesh and guided him to the juncture between her thighs. He was lost and dizzy from the overwhelming feeling of her...of them together. The moisture of her want was hot against his aching, throbbing groin. He wanted in there, desperately.

How easily he could give in. Let his body win and ignore the nagging, ever present voice of reason in his head. Who cared what the voice had to say anyway? She could bond him. Take him. Discard him like yesterday's newspaper when she was finished. He'd deal. He'd take the consequences of whatever came tomorrow when tomorrow arrived.

He arched up onto his knees as her fingers worked the waistband of his sleep pants down his hips, freeing his cock. The hard piece of flesh landed with a soft slap against the warm down of her curls. One little push was all it would take to seal the deal and their fates. He groaned, pressing against her. Grappling with his good sense as the angel on one of his shoulders and the devil on the other waged war. "God, Kacie," he rasped. Past the point of reason, burning with need for her, he swiveled his hips so that their sexes brushed together.

Kacie finished removing his pants with her feet. Kicking them free from his legs and snatching the cloth between her toes as she disposed of the unwanted fabric from beneath the covers. He was naked gloriously naked. Hovering over her and pinning her beneath him with his weight, the hard press of his engorged cock pressed into her soft sex. "Tristen, tell me what you want."

Tristen closed his eyes. Drowning in the heat of his need and pleasures he'd never experienced, he couldn't lie. "You. Forever. Only you." Apparently, honesty was a bad thing in the heat of the moment. He felt Kacie stiffen beneath him and draw a hesitant breath. He'd pushed too hard and wanted too much. Asked for something he might never receive. He could have her for the moment, but that was all she could give. He eased off of her. Tucking the blankets around their naked and exposed bodies to protect them from the chill. Yeah, honesty sucked. She hadn't lied to him and offered more than she had to give.

"Tristen. I'm sorry." Kacie buried her face against the warmth of his chest. She'd hurt him, badly. He'd delivered her to paradise and she'd dropped him into the pits of hell in return. He wanted more than her body. He wanted a promise from her. She couldn't promise something that she wasn't sure that she wanted to give. "I need more time."

Tristen rubbed his cheek against the softness of Kacie's hair. It took every concentrated effort and straining lungful of breath he could get to put on the brakes. He was so hard it hurt. A part of him wanted to tell her anything she wanted to hear just so he could get inside of her and ease this agony. He wanted her so badly. But, he wouldn't do something they'd both regret. Kacie more than knew his stand on things. And as much as it pained him, his word was the only thing that he had of any real value. He would not lie. Ever. "Take all the time you need. I've been waiting this long. A little longer won't hurt."

"You sound so sure, like I've already made up my mind."

"You have. You just don't realize it yet." Tristen rocked Kacie in his arms, relishing the soft friction of the skin to skin contact. He would have fallen off the fence and broken his damned neck if she hadn't asked him that question. His body would have overruled his head and he would have given into her. Basked in the glory of the wonders her body had to offer. He'd have to save his basking for another time. A time when she could freely give herself to him, for keeps, not just for a stolen moment.

Kacie sighed. "Isn't there a loophole? Someway you can rationalize this damned bonding in your head? Tristen, it isn't real. Haven't you figured that out yet? It doesn't exist." Her voice was tinted with unresolved need and exasperation. She leaned up on an elbow to stare down at him.

"There are loopholes. Why do you think I was able to touch you the way I was without risking you? The bonding only is fulfilled when two people fully join as one. I care too much about you to risk you in such a careless, selfish manner. No matter what I want. Until you're sure of what you want, I'd never trick you or force you into something against your will."

"You mean we can do EVERYTHING but..." She clamped her mouth shut before she stupidly stuck her size seven shoe into it. To some, what they'd already done would be considered sex. Likewise, two people could have intercourse and have it be no more than a physical sating of needs. Sex was biology, pure and simple. It meant whatever it meant to the two people involved. Penetration was no more a boundary or a bonding than a kiss or a brush of fingers. Tristen didn't see the reality of that fact and how unreasonable his thought process...the bizarreness of his morality and its division lines truly were.

"Yeah. Kacie, do you realize how hard it was for me to stop a moment ago? I don't think we should push it that far again. I know you don't believe in the bonding. And right now I wish I didn't. But, I do. So..." Tristen slid the spaghetti strap up onto her shoulder and straightened her gown. Hiding her swollen nipple beneath the thin, swath of silk, " We're going to have to keep this rated PG 13 for a while longer."

"Until I love you?"

Tristen pressed a finger to Kacie's lips, silencing her. No, there was no until she loved him. She already did. There was simply until she fell irrevocably and utterly, absolutely in love with him. "Until you admit it." He was sure about how she felt, a little more time and he'd be in more than her pants. He'd already accomplished as much of that goal as he dared. One day, he'd be in her heart too.

Kacie shrugged off Tristen's insistence that she was desperately although unwittingly in love with him. His ego probably had to feed itself that line to stay inflated. She cared for him. She wanted him. She enjoyed his company. True enough. But, love. Love was as real as the bonding and nothing more than fiction, a convenient fiction. Love had sucked her mother in. Love had sucked her sister under. And she'd be darned if love was going to pull her down and trap her anywhere.

She needed a distraction. Her eyes glimmered with mischief as they focused on Tristen. He was so damned morally uptight. He needed a little lesson in pleasure other than the self-induced kind he admitted he indulged in. Brazenly, she trailed her fingers down his broad chest and ventured lower below the waistband of his sleep pants. "So, I can touch you here?"

Tristen sucked in a breath as Kacie's fingers trailed a path down his sternum and over his abs. She stopped at the thick covering of hair bordering his pelvis. Playfully, her fingers tugged at the dark strands. "Yeah," he rasped. Clutching the sheets in his fists he could barely breathe as her fingertips brushed the ripe head of him.

"How about here?" Kacie licked her lips. Knowing fully well that his eyes were locked on her mouth as she skated the pink tip of her tongue across their smooth surface. Despite all the speeches and words Nash and her mother had thrown at her. She still didn't believe in the mystical bonding. Never would. She just had to convince Tristen of the same. She respected his beliefs, but it was time for him to grow up and see the world and sex for what it really was. Physical pleasure and pain and love, a luxury only fools indulged in. There was nothing more and nothing less. Her fingers brushed along the length of his straining erection. The flesh was soft as her satin gown and beneath it hard, a core of steel.

He was hurting. She'd put him in this agony and she could deliver him from the worst of his pain. She wanted to. She wanted make him feel as good as he'd made her feel. Her hand wrapped around his hard shaft. Stroking up and down with long, luxuriating strokes. Her free hand cupped the weight of his sack and palmed the firm orbs they contained. He bucked and rasped. Clutching at the gown he'd chastely put back in place. "Is this ok?" She teased seductively.

"That's a good place to touch," Tristen mouthed barely capable of speech. Her hands were magic. Stroking up and down his length until it pulsed and throbbed with agonizing pleasure. His hands trailed along her spine. His fingers splayed over the curve of her butt, gripping and releasing. He struggled with his inner urge to guide her over him and bury his length deep inside of her. Pleasure burned along his nerve endings, searing them to ash with heat. The pressure in his groin built until he barely managed to suck in desperate breaths. He'd had plenty of self-guided tours of his body and pleasure, but he'd accomplished nothing that felt as good as her hands on him.

Tristen ground his erection into her palm. Rocking his hips urgently in rhythm with her strokes a tiny bead of moisture slicked the tip of the hot, pulsating, swollen head. He was almost there, panting and biting his lip to keep in control. She didn't want him in control. She wanted him as lost and confused as she was. Dizzied and dazed by passion and want and completely at her mercy. Her tongue slid across his lips as she broke the kiss and inched her way down. His hands fisted her hair, pushing her lower and pulling her up. Conflicted between the desire he felt and his need to remain the perfect gentleman, he grappled for something...anything to hold on to. He could hold onto her.

"What are you doing?" Tristen groaned as her tongue traced a path along his erection. If she kept this up he wasn't going to last another five seconds. Already he could feel the pressure surpassing tolerance. He eased out a groan that sounded more like a squeak as her mouth opened and she slid her lips around the head. Hoooo-llll-yyyy SHIT! He bucked greedily, reeling in the warm, wet feel of her mouth on him. Sinking his length deeper she took him in. When she opened up to accommodate his demands he couldn't help but cry out in the pleasure created by her warm, slick mouth, her lips, and tongue working over him.

Kacie reeled as she tasted him and bathed in the musky male scent of his desire. He fisted her hair and wrapped his thighs around her waist. Greedily pinning her against him as she worked him with her tongue and mouth. She was tempted. Oh so tempted to wiggle free of his muscular hold and settle her core over the hard length of him. End the confusion, the battle, and their mutual suffering. Once he realized for certain that there was no bonding and no consequence, nothing but pleasure in their acts. He'd be an insatiable lover and she'd be right there with him, giving and receiving with unparalleled abandon.

Tristen sucked in a breath and bit his lip for a distraction. The last of his restraint was exhausted. She could do whatever she wanted with him. He had no fight left in him. His orgasm bubbled beneath the surface, threatening to break free at any moment. His groin had reached critical mass. He strained to hold back. Prolong the moment and the pleasure Kacie inflicted with her mouth, hands, fingers, and that luscious little pink tongue. He was a done man. "Kacie, I can't...stop...going to..."

"Its ok," Kacie rasped. "Do it." Turned on by the effect she had on him, heady with the knowledge of the power she wielded, she said on a heated whisper, "I want you to." She focused on his pleasure, gauging his response to her lips and tongue and alternating with strokes of her fingers and palm. His thighs quivered beneath her fingertips as his release shot through him, erupting across the palm of her hand and her mouth in a jet of hot, white come.

Tristen panted and clutched onto her shoulders as he shuddered in the aftermath of his ejaculation. Holy shit! That felt so good. He reveled in the sensations that reaped havoc with his nervous system, edgy and relaxed at the same time, sated yet hungry for more. The world beyond his closed bedroom door didn't matter anymore. Not when Kacie was his entire universe.

Kacie slid out beneath the covers and padded her way to the bathroom. Discreetly closing the door behind her, she stared at her reflection as she washed away the evidence of what she'd done. Why did things have to be so difficult? They felt a strong attraction, if not a connection, for one another. Why did it have to be so complicated? She dried her hands and looked at the woman staring back at her. Her cheeks were highlighted with pink and her lips swollen from his kiss. Her nipples strained for more of his touch beneath the red silk shift. She was a grown woman, and yet, sometimes she felt like such a kid, floundering and stumbling her way though life.

Was it wrong to want more than just heavy petting without a commitment? Was she a slut? Were her values so corrupt and out of sync with the moral majority? Why couldn't she demand proof that love was real before she committed herself to something that she wasn't even certain existed at all? Were love and sex so intertwined that Tristen was right to demand her love before they had sex? What in the hell was wrong with her that she feared love so much? Why couldn't she let go and feel what her heart told her with such vehemence and conviction that she felt? Her issues and problems weren't his. Much as he illogically believed in the bonding, she had a few of her own unreasonable beliefs to debunk. Hastily she dried her hands and shivered against the coolness of the air nipping into her shoulders.

"Hi," she said meekly. Climbing back into bed and the warm shelter of his arms, she glanced at him from beneath veiled eyes. She had given him his first taste of pleasure, true pleasure from a lover's hand and lips. Somehow, the experience made her feel possessive of him. As if she had rights to him. She didn't, realistically. She knew that. It was simple pleasure. They shared, gave to one another, and received from one another. Pleasure wasn't vows. Pleasure was a physical response to stimulus. Nothing more. Still in the back of her mind, she heard the word 'Mine' echoed over and over again.

Tristen grinned and took her into his arms. He felt great, relaxed and fully sated. For the moment, although he had no doubts now that Pandora's box had been opened, there was no way to fully close it. How was he going to get through to this stubborn, pig headed woman? How was he going to make her see that she loved him? That she was in love with him? How was he going to prove to her that what she felt was real? Tangible? If only she'd open herself up to it and let it happen.

He loved her. In no questionable uncertain terms, he loved her with all that he was. If he didn't, he would have taken everything she had to offer and settled for the momentary fleeting sensations of pleasure. He was holding on to her for the long haul. A moment would only whet his appetite for more. He needed forever or not at all. He regretted his own stubborn, pig headed nature. Neither one of them was in the wrong or in the right. Sex had his merits, as he was beginning to realize. And so did love, which he already knew. She had much to teach him about the world and about life. But he was not without a few lessons to provide to her. She had much to learn about love and the heart she buried so deeply and kept hidden from the world.

Kacie draped her legs over Tristen' s hips and lifted her chin. Smiling against his lips as he dipped the tip of his nose down and pressed it against hers. No words she could have said seemed adequate. After an Eskimo kiss, sweet and innocent as a baby's first breath, she closed her mouth and rested her cheek on his chest. Closing her sleepy eyes as the room grew dim with the first light of dawn.

Downstairs the house began to stir to life. He heard the heavy stomp of his grandfather's footsteps across the wooden planks of the dining room floor as he shuffled his way to the coffee pot. Above him, Eloise's shower babbled in a soft spray of water striking porcelain. There was the chime of a clock and the whistle of Mouse's teakettle on the stove. They were good sounds to fall asleep to the solid noises of family and friends, of permanence and home.

Tristen enveloped her body in his arms, clutching Kacie tightly to his chest. Her heart thrummed in rhythm to his. Her breathing was perfectly timed to his inhales and exhales. They were one in the moment. Time would have to take care of all the missing pieces and if's, and's, and but's. Right now, holding her was more than enough. Everything he'd ever wanted. He closed his eyes and dozed off. They were both dressed, but naked to one another beneath the layers of wool and cotton sheltering their bodies from winter's last lingering exhale.

Chapter 38

Marianne watched the strange little boy sitting across the breakfast table from her slurp at his cereal, dribbling a stream of milk from his chin into the bowl. His dark hair stood up on end with the worst case of bed head she'd ever seen. His faded Spiderman pajamas were too small for his gangly body and had been lovingly patched together a time or two by his mom. "Can you enjoy your cereal quietly?" she asked. He was one of the Lost Children. The only thing she wished was that he'd get lost and quit pestering her. Evan buzzed around her like a fly after a sugar cube and she was, quite frankly, bored with it.

Evan stared at Marianne. She was so prim and proper, nibbling on a square of toast and sipping her tea from a china cup with her pinkie finger hoisted high up into the air. She was dressed for the day. Her outfit was a bright shade of springtime yellow, the color of the daffodils that grew in the gardens back home. Her black hair was held in place with a clip and high up on the crown of her head. She looked like the princess she was, or maybe, the queen she was someday going to become. He pouted into his cereal at the sharpness in her tone. "You don't like me very much do you?"