What Have U Done?

"Oh—god..." he gasped over her, turning his head to burry his face in her hair, entangling his fingers in her curls and breathing in the sweet, vanilla scent of her shampoo. She was—real; really real, and he was holding her in his arms!

Giving a nervous laugh, Liric sighed then as she breathed a sigh and relaxed her body against his, closing her eyes in calm as she reveled in the warmth of his body against her own, her own body beginning to tremble, then, as she tightened the grip of her fingers as she pawed at the breast of his costume, fingering the soft mesh cloth, feeling out the form of his body beneath. "Ryan," she whispered softly, her breath a fleeting warmth in the crisp air about the apartment. "I don't wanna go back alone. Don't make me go back alone."

Holding her he felt her trembling, the warmth of her body a myth as she suddenly felt as cool as ice against him. "Where?" he asked, never moving from how he held her, sure of how she felt reassured and safe in his arms. "Where's it that you don't want to go back to?"

"Back—there," she said with a surety. "Where its cold, and dark, and I'm always so alone." Sobbing softly she turned her head into his chest again, clutching to him as if her life depended on the hold she had on him. "Please don't make me go back there, Ryan. No when it's so warm out here, and I have you to hold me."

"Never," he whispered through hard clenched teeth. "They took you away from me once, and I'll never let them take you again." Forcing himself to smile, Ryan took her face into his hands, stern but gentle as he held her far enough away so that his eyes could meet with hers, as clouded an as distant as they seemed. "Only I can take you anywhere from now on. Understand?"

She nodded.

And as simple a gesture as that was, it was gesture enough for Ryan as he took his hands to her waist and spun her once before lowering her again to the floor to stand again on her own two feet. And it was in those very palms of his that he found him holding her face again, though, not to hold her attention as he had meant before, but to kiss her. Her frost-colored lips, just as cool as the rest of her as he kissed her long and hard, as hard and long as she would allow him to, though, to him she seemed just as eager, her smile returning to her lips just as quickly as it had faded.

Anything—anything in this world to make you smile again...

But it seemed just as soon as he had initiated the kiss that it was broken, and her hands were grasping his as there was only the lightest of skips to her steps as she began to lead him, back into the dark from where she had emerged, and back to where he had first heard the familiar echo of her melodic voice. And he followed after her, without a thought or hesitation he followed her; and would continue on, he was sure, stopping only when she would tell him that she didn't want him after her any more. But it wasn't long before he'd noticed it, flickering at her back, playing dim shades of assorted lights about her back that would catch her eyes every so often and would make them shine.

The soft yellow lights of many lit candles, strewn about the room, an assortments of shapes and sizes from what he could see as he entered into the room only a half step after Liric. It was all like something out of a dream to him as he followed after her further. It was her room, and yet, it wasn't. So changed from what he remembered, and still it was the same. The different range of art that papered the wall, gently lifting away from the flat surface as there entered in a cool breath of air from the open window. It was no wonder her body was so cold.

But he'd hardly a moment to dwell on it any longer than he already had as she stepped to stand at his back, reaching around him to undo the dark and noble cloak that bellowed about his figure, allowing it to drop carelessly to the floor as she moved to stand in front of him again. And he could see her better now, for all the light that surround the two of them, that poured in through the window from the new moon that burned a brilliant shade of yellow in the sky, and the few candles that she had lit about. The costume, it did suit her well, the 'lost soul' that played into their group-decided theme. And he, the keeper of the souls departed...

"Such a handsome sight," whispered Liric as she admired Ryan in his full costume, less the bellowing cloak of black. "It's no wonder so many dare to flirt with Death," she said, making play of his costume. "No when it's you who are the sight that they see. Really, I can't say that I blame a soul for being so brazen. Not when I'm tempted myself..."

Ryan smiled at this, watching her as she circled him, like a bird of prey watching the latest catch of its watchful eye. "It's a dangerous past-time, you know. Nothing a soul should make a habit of."

With a simple roll of her shoulder she stopped and stood before him, the tips of her delicate fingers tracing the length of his chest that was exposed. "With or without you, I'm at a loss, nevertheless," Liric spoke in a sweetly solemn tone. "So why not loose myself in you?" Rising up on tip-toe, Liric seized his neck with her lips, even nipping and biting at his flesh, leaving marks as she dared, silently reveling in his every grunt and groan in response to her pain-riddled play. But it was as she began to feel the folding of his body against hers that she withdrew, giggling like a mischievous little girl as she took first one step back, and then another, until she was able to turn upon her heels with ease and flounce herself back and atop the surface of the bed. And it was with both hands that she beckoned to him once, both her arms outstretched as she motioned for him to come towards her, her eyes speaking volumes of her silent pleas.

But he only shook his head at Liric, watching her as she watched him, her expression melting into a childish pout mixed with confusion or disappointment, though he couldn't exactly tell which. He took on a teasing tone, then, as he started towards that four-post bed that stood in the center of the room, only to turn a half-step in his strides as he began to circle his way around. "Of course," he began, his eyes never breaking the focus between them as he continued about his way. "Lonely a position as I have, as restricting as my duties can be: watching over the souls that come through me and mine on their way to Heaven or Hell, it is only understandable that I search for a certain possession from time to time, an object for the having, and through that possession become a very jealous god," he hissed into the air as he took one of those four posts into hand, keeping a steady grasp about it as he paused in his circular pacing.

And it was to this comment that Liric's lips curled into a mischievous grin as she dropped back onto the bed to lay, her short, tendriled locks flopped over the beds edge and hanging, giving only the most gentle of sways with every movement of her head. "But of course!" she started slowly. "For there are none so jealous as the god who has them all, while at the same time possesses none."

Ryan nodded, watching Liric as she, for only the briefest of moments, took to writhing atop the bed as she struggled for a moment to find her preferred position of comfort. Once found she was at rest again, the soft tips of all ten of her fingers smoothing along the silken fabric of her costume, gradually bringing the skirt higher and higher about her outstretched legs. "And what kind of god would I be that I would deny a wandering soul the paradise that it seeks in Heaven, simply for my sheer desire to keep and possess that soul for my very own?"

"A selfish god indeed," commented Liric as she lowered her sights to where her hand gripped at the skirt of her costume, steadily lifting it ever higher even as she spoke.

And it was all that he could do to restrain himself from attacking her where she lay, gripping the post as if it were his only means of salvation, holding on to it for dear life as he watched his muse as she moved, taking note of her every shift of her balance and weight, drawing up one leg and then the other to bend before lifting them both into the air above her, allowing the ripple of the skirt to fall back down onto the bed, landing at or about the height of her waist. And just as easy, having kept her legs together as she'd held them up and in the air, Liric dropped her legs now back onto the bed, landing first her feet, and then dropping her knees to the side, her torso twisting accordingly to better accommodate this new and more comfortable position in which she lay. And so he swallowed hard as he closed his eyes to adjust, shifting to stand himself upright, or at least for the most part, as his shoulder, still, remained leaned against that post.

But even still it was much too much, to simply stand back and ignore, as she lay there, wordlessly beckoning to him, her eyes searching out and finding his, her lips parting and pressing again as if to start to speak, only to stop as if she was sure that he was already aware of the tension between them.

With a cautious slink to his movements, Ryan moved from where he'd been standing behind the post, inching slowly along the length of the bed, both his arms dropped at length to either side of him as the shaking tips of his fingers touched at the careful stitching of the beds duvet, feeling at the softness that stroked at her skin as she lay atop it. Over every wrinkle and fold that she had made for all her writhing until his fingers, at last, had come to touch it, the silken flesh of her ankle as it lay comfortably placed atop the other. Dropping into a comfortable crouch, Ryan pawed gently at the subtle flesh of the extremity; hardly examining, but rather, finding a somewhat perverse pleasure in his having been allowed to touch, at long last, the nymphet that it was attached to. How erotic was she, this little girl all grown up, her form more proportioned and adult where there lingered, still, an unmistakable air about her that rang youth between his ears. Changed and yet unchanged, even less so than the rest of them; not where the changes mattered, still the same girl that he grew up with and knew in nature, but more woman to look upon now than he would have ever imagined her to be, either then or even now. In his mind she was still but a girl, past puberty in all rights, but with a youthful state of mind. He could see it in her eyes then, as they were alight as he looked up and into them, shining with a mystery that not even he could explain if given all the time in the world. And it was at that mystery that he swooned, laying his head to rest atop that bare ankle as his fingers stroked and massaged along her calf.

She swooned and smiled deeply as she stretched from her torso, extending both her arms now up and over her head, then back as far as she could reach, her fingers intertwined as far as they could go until they simply fell apart and hang there in the air only inches from the floor. "Just the same," she said finally, twisting a solitary tendril about her finger as she gently bat her dark lashes in deep contemplation. "Is it plausible for a soul to find solace in the world that no longer accepts them?"

Hearing this, Ryan opened up his eyes, his ears attuned to listen as she spoke on.

"To, instead, forsake whatever place it is they are eternally condemned to and opt, instead, to remain in the world of the in-between?"

Smiling, Ryan lift his head, though only slightly to place a kiss to her ankle, and then a few inches higher and on higher still, his fingers proceeding his kisses as they massaged at the flesh of her thigh now, just below the raised fabric of her costume. "To choose Purgatory, and the walking path of the one who keeps them," he said, though it was more of a question posed than a statement.

Turning her head so that her cheek rest against her arm, Liric nodded, her reassuring smile ever present. "Yes. All the while aware, always knowing of the one who eternally awaits them there."

"The Keeper of the Souls, himself..."

She laughed quietly, a breath of a gasp escaping her as she felt a chill about the height of her inner thigh before the warming heat of his breath, and his lips as their brush was brief across her skin. "No matter how jealous a god he may be." Suddenly her body tensed, and she arched the small of her back as she felt only the slightest caress of his knee between her thighs, his hand along her side as his fingers found their way up and beneath her shoulder, pausing there for only a moment as he shift and moved above her. She could feel him and his every movement, feeling them as he made them. And what a feeling it was, her body tingling with the sensation. But it was as his fingers continued upwards that her body gave a jolt, a sudden chill taking the length of her spine and causing her to react before she had even realized it. But it was just as quick as the shock, the chill, had come that it had subsided, and her body reclined and settled again as his fingers found their way to her one wrists and then the other, nimbly slipping about them both to hold them fast in place.

Lifting his lips to the lobe of her ear he whispered softly to her, so that only she could hear him, even if there were no other ears to hear. "There are none so jealous as me," he confessed as he began to lower his hips to hers. And he could hear it in his ear, the quick intake of breath as he, in an instant, thrust himself into her, making quick work of the action, bracing her body beneath his own, quickly tightening his grip about her wrists over her head. "A god so jealous as to deny an innocent soul the benevolence that is Heaven...and to keep her, selfishly, for my own." He held her there beneath him, her body fixed there in an all but silent submission. And it was as he lift his head, though only slightly, that from the corner of his eye he could see it, watching her as she watched him in return. Her lips were parted, though only slightly, and full and ripe for the kissing as the spoke softly the inquiry that filled her head.

"Her?" she asked, her soft voice lifting in a tone of amusement.

But Ryan uttered no reply. Instead, it was now his turn to tense, to become rigid in the way that he hovered over her, the feeling of her lips hard pressed to his, her kiss deep and unrelenting; almost as if through her kiss she could steal his very breath. And there came a strange comfort with that kiss, and the feeling of her fingers as moved to encircle his neck, causing him to shake with chills. She wasn't at all like the girl that he once knew, that he'd grown up with and had skinned his knees with climbing trees. But rather, she was subtle and she was soft, like satin dressed in silk and with a voice that carried like the softest of summer breezes that cooled and warmed him all at once. Like a siren was this girl that lay beneath him, panting in rhythm to his every thrust, her very breaths of passion enough to lull him into his own self-centered trance that blinded him to the goings on around them, if there were any to be found. There was only the two of them in this world that they had made in a matter of moments; just the two of them, and no other, was all that mattered.

"Ryan,"

Soft as it had escaped her, it was enough to break his trance, the utterance of his name as it echoed between his ears, causing him to slow all the more in his pace, nearly to the point of ceasing all together. But it was with the coaxing of her arms about his shoulders, her fingers interlocked behind him that she urged him to go, using her woven fingers as a brace to lift her head and her shoulders from the bed, and her lips towards the lobe of his ear, the soft flesh of those frost-colored buds caressing the flesh of his lobe, bringing him to smile as he was sure that she was aware of her skill at getting his attention.

"Promise me," is what she whispered to him, the warmth of her breath in his ear, "that you'll never let go of me. Not for anything in the world."

"Of course," he whispered back, turning his head so that his own lips caressed her dimpled cheek, kissing her unconsciously as the pace of his hips was gradual to increase again, pushing him deeper and deeper still until her once soft panting grew into breathless whimpers and moans. And it was music to his ears, the simple act of her every pleasured breath; a sound that he had ached for for what felt like longer than three lifetimes. "I've laid claim to you, after all," he groaned, giving a single, deep thrust into her, causing Liric to scream out loud, shattering the calm quiet of the room. " And I'd be a fool to surrender you to any other."

Her smile deep, she brushed his cheek with hers, whispering back into his ear her response. "That's all I wanted to hear." Loosening her legs around him, Liric used to her advantage the strength of her position, pushing the two of them around to force Ryan over and onto his back, a bit of a giggle escaping her as he landed with a grunt. Finally he was at her mercy now, as she raked her nails down the length of his chest, leaving bright red welts in their wake. Straddling his waist she rode him, her hips grinding down hard into his as she kept her nails bore deep into his chest, watching his expression now as she had seen him watching hers. "Tell me you adore me," she purred, a thin brow arched as she watched the ecstasy in his expression.

"You're—incredible!" he gasped beneath her, his own fingers clawing at the thick of the duvet.

Biting at her lip, she rose her hips up and off of his, holding herself up there for a time before slowly descending onto him again, her inner-most muscles gentle in the way that they constrict about his full, erect length, his rigid phallus twitching as it was held.

"Yes, yes," she said with a ring of laughter, leaning into his neck as she playfully nipped at his skin, taking his length to a slightly altered angle, bringing her arms to rest just over his head as she continued to grind him. "But tell me," she started, speaking in between playful nips and kisses. "Tell me that you'd do anything for me." With her lips to the left of his face, she lift her fingers to the right of him to stroke at his dropped and trembling jaw. Her body slipped along his with ease for the light sheen of sweat that the both of them had built, glossing their skin from head to toe.

In an instant Ryan was upright from where he lay, his head beneath her chin as he held her tight to him, breathing heavy as she continued on in her steady, rhythmic pace atop his lap. "Anything," he breathed, his head dizzy with excitement or passion. "Anything to keep you here with me."

Resting her chin atop his head, Liric smiled contentedly as her arms draped behind his shoulders as she felt his quick and repeated release into her warmth. With her frost-smudged lips slightly parted and her mop of curls a mess for all their frantic tumbles, she whispered softly atop his head, "Promise?"

Exactly how long he lay there, sightless and unmoving, reveling simply in the indescribable feelings that surged through the full of his body, causing digits to tingle and appendages to fall numb, Ryan wasn't exactly sure. It felt as if he'd been there for an eternity passed, and as if he could stay for an eternity longer. And despite his body as it lay unmoving and at rest, his heart beneath his chest pound as if he'd run a marathon without pause. It was a feeling that he couldn't recall ever having felt before. Not really. Not—not unless he was to account for that time that—that now seemed like nothing more than a distant nightmare and nothing more. As if it were all a bad dream, erased by the presence of her, there, nestled in his arm, her bare body still warm from their excursion, but cooler now than when first they had collapsed together within the bed to recover.