Friday 8 March 2013

Saturday #afterdark - Fire and Ice

Check out all the AfterDark moments on the blog.
She shivered as pale ice fingers opened her dress. It was cold, but warmer than anywhere else in Winter. Her nipples were hard points and ached as they were exposed to the cool breath of her husband.
"Did it hurt?" he asked, kneeling before her, his hands sliding down the back of her now bare legs.
"Yes," she said, eyes wide. "It was painful for you, too?"
He nodded, his silvery grey hair falling into his colorless eyes. That gaze held her, fixed. So different from the greens, golds and reds of her home. She touched her hair, feeling for something of Summer. Her fingers brushed the branches Olive had tied in, celebrating her wedding. As if being stranded in Winter every other season were something to celebrate. The life that sprung from those branches shot up her arms, and she stretched, releasing the magic into the bare twigs surrounding her. Moss and lichen, the only life in this place, surged toward her, covering the bare branches closest to her.
The grey fairy stopped his wandering fingers, reaching toward one of the now furry stems. He pulled back before touching it to reach for her hand. She lowered it, touching a few strands of his hair.
He pulled his head away, but too late, the strands she had touched no longer hung flat with the others, they sprang out, thick and curled.
"I'm sorry," she said, surprised that she was. Although he had taken her, in accordance with the peace treaty, he had never been harsh with her, only gentle.
He closed his eyes, then took her hand again, placing it on his chest.
She gasped as the magic still lingering in her fingertips shot into him. His eyes turned from pale white silver to gold and he grabbed for her, pulling her hips toward his face.
She shuddered as his magic, so strong here, pierced her like a thousand frosty needles. They shot up between her legs, into her belly, turning it to ice.
He didn't move from the spot, looking up at her with golden eyes, his mouth opening and tongue sampling her. The piercing came again, even more focused, and this time, it wasn't unpleasant.
She put her hands into his hair, her magic nearly gone. His hair shimmered, turning a pale pink for a moment before the hue receded to the roots, seeming to drain into his head. She held his head where it was and tried to resist the waves of pleasure that shot through her.