[M] - I was prepared to take it all

Itachi Lykoi · 01-05-2011, 12:31 PM

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No words of complain rose. Instead she seemed as devoted as him at the strange, nerving moment they shared. He was amazed by the smooth silky feel as he pressed his hands gently against her, fingers exploring and searching. He watched with quiet awe as light lids shut out the shades of cerulean skies. He mourned them the moment they were hidden away, but lived on with the assurance that they would return to meet dusk and dawn. The boy thought he could have his gaze fixed for hours upon this angelic face. She was a present; a gift with sparkling, sweet deceit hiding something he craved. He wished to discover its contents, and was slowly feeling the water, enjoying the form of whatever lay waiting for him within. The boy was an excited child on Christmas Eve, with expectations high though his wishes remained abstract. There was knowledge that he would get what he wanted though, and instead of calming his alert nerves, it made him crave harder.

Fingers hesitated only slightly as the beautiful sculpture stirred gently under his expressing fingers. Did the frost still hunt her heated form? He found the possibility strange, but would not hesitate to warm the princess if such words would rise again. He had learned that her words were wise, for she must have known that after a first touch, it was as a drug; he could not stop. Would not stop. An elegant, feminine palm settled on top of his hand, leading it safely to the timid curve where a living heart pulsed underneath with its fast, hectic rhythm. Her eyes revealed that lovely colour once again, though there was a different shine. The glossy twinkle inspired him to recall stars, draw in lovely memories that in some way could summarize how he felt. Excitement without contentment, starvation without hunger.

The boy nodded. He could feel it, and it would remain his secret. The distinct experience of how her heart reached out to him through skin and bone. It was extraordinary. Carnal greed steered his fingers, coaxing them on as he caressed the area, touching the fence as he sought the organ safely installed below silk. His smile stretched as spring turned to summer, and even deep scarlet held traces of the joy he harboured. An unwilling victim squirmed and crawled away, but she wanted this too, did she not? ”Do you like it?” he asked, continuing to draw excitement from her words. Its ecstatic rhythm was his creation, and he wanted to claim it as his. Again, she unleashed her toxic smile, and he was poisoned with cupid’s drugs, feeling the dangerous matter infest every vein running through his evolving body.

The hand not clasped by hers rose to stroke against her lovely locks, claws exceedingly careful as they rowed through silky seas of coal. She was too lovely for him. He was flawed and defect within, and she was so pure and unspoiled. He wanted more of this; for dissatisfaction grew the longer he lingered with sparse, slow movement. He had thought touching her lightly would be enough, but the urge to go on with this continued to tempt him further in his quest to explore the young girl’s well shaped form. But what was he supposed to do? Why was this not enough?

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