Rated NC-17
The bedroom is so dark, I can barely see a foot in front of me and the whole room seems to smell like Danny.
A small gasp escapes me as he pulls me close and kisses me before I can so much as utter a word.
I try so hard to pull away somewhere in my mind, to not be swept up in the way he makes me feel, but that's impossible.
I should know that by now.
Instead, I give in completely to what I'm feeling, to what he makes me feel.
He pulls away slightly and goes to sit on the edge of the bed, my hands clasped in his, his eyes drifting over me in the dark.
I am shaking suddenly and his hand releases mine to rub the curve of my hip.
"Nice dress," he murmurs and there's a laugh in his voice. "But I think I liked you better in that turquoise bedspread."
I pull back slightly, unaware of what exactly is coming over me, and push one strap, then the other, down my shoulders and in a graceful move that is totally unlike me, I shimmy my body causing the dress to puddle at my feet.
I hear his quick intake of breath. I hadn't bothered to wear anything under the dress.
"What?" I say, a teasing lilt in my voice. "Isn't this what you
wanted?"
He reaches out for me and I can feel rather than see the fire in his eyes.
I step back again, but he's faster than I think and he manages to catch me by the waist and pull me down to him.
"Don't play games with me, Michelle," he growls in my ear. "You'll lose every time."
"Don't be so sure about that," I fire back and then our mouths meet in an angry, consuming kiss.
I feel my self start that slow, languorous slide into that place only he can take me to, but this time, I fight it.
I pull away again, feeling victory at the look of frustration on his eyes.
"First things first," I say softly and I begin to unbutton his shirt. As I suspected, he pushes my hands away, muttering, "I'll do it." "No," I say firmly, covering his hands with my own. "I want to."
He gives me a speculative look, but his hands drop to his sides and I finish my task, kissing each bit of hot, smooth flesh as it's revealed.
He grips my shoulders and tries to pull me away again. "Dammit, Michelle, what are you doing?"
I look up at him with wide, innocent eyes. "What do you think I'm doing, Danny?"
His eyes narrow, but he doesn't reply. Instead, he grips my face in his hands and kisses me again as we fall back onto the mattress, His lips and tongue are every bit as skillful as usual, but I don't just lose myself in the sensation. I give as good as I get and by then time the kiss ends, he's the one breathing hard and looking dazed.
I move my hands to his belt and while he's still looking at me suspiciously, he doesn't try to stop me when I undo it and slide it through its loops.
I sit up again and push his shirt over his shoulders, where it disappears into the darkness over the side of the bed.
His eyes are no longer doubting. They're laughing, taunting.
I feel anger spark within me and it wars with the desire that flames from the center of my thighs.
but it is this anger that makes me bold and I want to shout with triumph when I slide my hand into his slacks and watch the laughter dissipate in those dark, mocking eyes.
His fingers clamp around my wrist like a vise. "No."
I raise my chin and stare at him evenly. "What are you afraid of, Danny? Me?"
His fingers tighten and his gaze hardens, but still, I don't release my grip.
Smirking, he trails his other hand hand over my breasts and I feel my nipples tighten in response. I shudder a little and lean into him.
he runs his tongue along the outer edge of my ear and murmurs roughly, "Remember who's in the driver's seat, baby."
The words jolt me pout of my sensual haze. I take advantage of his distraction and move my fingers, still wrapped around him, hesitantly up and down.
Danny gives a low groan and his head falls back.
I slide off the bed and fall to my knees beside it.
His breathing is coming harder and faster, but he's no longer trying to stop me.
I fell like my mind and body are no longer my own as I push his slacks and boxers down over his legs.
Once he's free of them and as naked as I am, he looks down at me with glittering eyes and says slowly, "Well, now what are you going to do with me?"
I meet his gaze for a moment then lean down and flick my tongue against him.
He gives a sort of guttural moan and fists his hands in my hair which encourages me to be bolder. I close my lips over his sex, loving the feel of triumph as he clutches my head and whispers, "Christ, Michelle..."
Nino and I never did this and I'm thankful for that. His specter has always been there any time I tried to get close to another man. Except, of course, with Danny that night in the motel. But I was so out of it that night, so desperate to prove that I was alive, that Nino and what he did to me were distant memories.
His visage swims before me briefly and I can see his dark, empty eyes as he leaned over me and said, "Go ahead and scream, Michelle. Who's gonna rescue you, huh? You think Santos is your white knight?"
Then he laughed.
I close my mind to those thoughts and instead try to concentrate on this moment.
Danny's hands are so tight in my hair, it hurts, but I'm almost intoxicated by the power I have over him.
Then, just as I feel him start to shudder towards release, he grabs my shoulders and pushes me away, nearly sending me sprawling on the carpet.
I look up at him confused. "What?"
He's on the other side of the room, deadly still.
"What are you trying to do?" he asks at last.
I stand up and shove a handful of hair out of my eyes as I say,"Um, gee, Danny, I thought I was going down on you. Was I wrong?"
He crosses the room in two quick strides and hauls me up against him.
"Don't be a smart ass with me, Michelle. You wanted the upper hand, right?"
My gaze flickers away from his. "I don't know what you mean."
"The hell you don't," he says fiercely.
I wish I could read his eyes, but they are still as dark, cold, and implacable as onyx.
"Maybe I am sick of you always having this...this...pull over me," I say finally. "But can you blame me?"
His mouth quirks in a smile. "Ah. So I have a pull over you, hmm?"
I try to jerk free of his grip. "Go to hell."
His hands don't ease their grip on my upper arms and his voice his silky as he murmurs, "Am I in control when I do this?"
He captures one of my nipples between his thumb and second fingers, squeezing gently.
My knees actually weaken and I can feel a damp rush of desire try to extinguish the flames of anger.
He bends down and takes the nipple he was attending into his mouth. The next thing I know, I'm laying back against the bed and my hands are moving up and down his back.
"If we're going to do this, Michelle," Danny says against the damp flesh of my stomach, "then I'm always going to be in control. Understood?"
My mind wants to scream "No!", but then his tongue parts the veil around that sensitive spot between my thighs and I hear myself crying, "Yes...oh, God, Danny, yes...."
Satisfied with my answer, he finishes what he started this afternoon in the bathroom and I pitch my hips under his mouth, begging for the tumult I know will come.
He complies and manages to tear a hoarse cry from my throat as I come.
Then he rises above me and kisses me. I can taste myself on his lips, but it just makes him seem closer, more intimate, and I dig my nails into the muscles of his back as our lips cling voraciously.
Almost on their own accord, my legs move further apart until I'm completely open to him.
I feel him start to enter me and lift my hips in a silent plea for union.
He brackets my face with his hands and pushes the hair out of my eyes. I'm breathing hard and I feel like my whole body is straining, but he looks totally unaffected.
"Do you want this?" he asks in a low voice.
My eyes widen and I wonder how he could even ask that.
then I remember that he knows about Nino and his concern nearly brings tears to my eyes.
He knows, he remembers, he cares, even if he won't say so.
"Yes," I say and I life my head to gently kiss his lips. "I want this."
He studies my face then lowers his forehead to mine and slides all the way into me.
It's been a long time since I've been with a man and the pressure borders on pain for a moment.Then, he begins to move within me and the flare of pain is consumed by the fire of want.
He keeps a hand on my hip to match my rhythm with his, but only the first few thrusts are slow and steady.
After that, we both seem to snap and I clutch him as he moves faster and faster inside me.
My legs cramp as the hold him tighter and he says my name on a soft broken cry.
I have to sink my teeth into his shoulder to muffle my sobs of pleasure as the climax spirals through me.
Turning my head to the side, nearly delirious, I see his hand clutch the sheets by by head and hear the faint scrape as the bottom sheet pops off the mattress.
He barely makes a sound as he comes; he merely mutters my name and eases his body onto me.
I remember the night in the motel.
We collapsed against each other then. Now, we keep our bodies at a polite, and damnably controlled distance.
Vaguely, I remember telling him I loved him that night and I can fell the words on my tongue now.
I know I don't mean them and now, so many years later, I wonder if I meant them then.
The hair at his temple is damp with sweat and I stroke it softly as he rolls over onto his back beside me.
Without saying a word, he pulls me against him and I drift off to sleep, my body still humming, knowing that at least this time he'll be here when I wake up.