Allie's War Season One (118 page)

More likely, I’d startle him and end up in a headlock, or on the floor.

After a brief tug of war in my head, I sat down...carefully.

He didn’t wake.

His light shifted though, once I’d been sitting there for a few seconds. It moved like a living thing, separate from the rest of him. I felt it change...right before it snaked around my outline, dancing in pale eddies as it explored. I fought not to react, but, looking at him, I felt the pain deepening, flickering at the edges of my awareness. I watched it rise, knowing it would only get worse the longer I sat there.

I should leave. Now. Before I did something stupid.

I watched his face tighten as he resettled on his back. Somehow, my mind returned to that first morning, in Seattle. Despite all the horrible things that happened with us afterwards, I’d woken up wrapped in his arms.

He’d wanted sex with me that morning, too. He’d asked me for it outright, before I managed to offend him completely and screw things up between us for weeks by turning him down...and worse, by seeming to offer him to Kat as a plaything in my stead.

I wondered how different things would be with us now, if I’d taken him up on that initial offer.

I continued to sit there as his light wound up liquidly through mine.

“Revik?” I whispered.

He didn’t move. His breathing didn’t change.

I stroked his forearm, tracing the line of muscle with my fingers. His arms were bigger than they had been in Seertown. Wherever he’d been these past few weeks, he’d gotten exercise. His face had filled out more, too, and his skin was tan from being outside. It had been before our excursions of the past few days.

I watched his expression relax as I touched him.

I cleared my throat. “Revik?”

He’d been a light sleeper on the ship. Half the time when I woke up, he wasn’t there. I caressed his fingers, pausing on the ring he wore, thinking about what it meant, his wearing it. I’d been afraid to ask, but I wondered if the finger he’d chosen meant anything, either.

I tried to make up my mind to leave.

I laid a hand on his chest. His light opened more, the longer I left my hand there, until his pain gradually bled into mine. I saw his face tighten as I slid my palm up to his shoulder. I massaged the muscle there slowly, watching him relax deeper into the couch. When he still didn’t move, I found myself doing the same to his chest through his shirt.

I did that for probably far too long.

Finally, I made up my mind to leave.

When I took my hands off him, I felt his breathing accelerate.

He was awake. I hesitated, looking at him, watching his face. My eyes had adjusted to the dark, so I could see him almost clearly. He hadn’t opened his eyes, or done anything really, but he was awake…I could feel it. His light felt different, too.

I could just leave. He probably wouldn’t say anything if I just stood up and left. But I found myself sitting there anyway.

“Revik,” I said, quiet.

I felt his reluctance. He didn’t want to talk. He also didn’t want me to leave. He wanted me to touch him. I felt him wanting it...

“Revik,” I said, softer.

Slowly, he turned his head.

His eyes were glassed to the point of being opaque. Watching him look at me, I fumbled with words, trying to decide if there was anything I could say that would explain this...what I was doing. I was still looking at him when he lowered his hand, stroking my calf gently with his fingers, using his light to pull on mine.

It felt like a question.

I thought of all the b.s. I’d considered feeding him, about looking at stars and getting up because I’d been bored...

I found myself lost in his open expression instead.

We gazed at each other’s faces in the bluish light from the window, and I couldn’t help but think about his explanation for why he’d brought me here.

I felt his shock that I’d woken him, but he didn’t let me close enough to see much past it. I could still feel him not wanting to talk, almost aggressively not wanting to talk to me. Despite his shields, I was lost inside his light, further in than I’d realized. He wanted me to keep touching him. He thought if we talked, he’d say something and I’d stop touching him.

I understood...I really did.

I also felt the part of me that still wanted to hesitate, that was still waiting for him to say something or do something, something that probably wouldn’t even reassure me.

...until I let that go, too. Finally.

And then I was just looking at him, biting my lip against the pain in my chest. It bled slowly into a coiling nausea when I didn’t move.

He caressed my hand, threading our fingers.

Pain flickered around the edges of his light, too, but he had it under control again. Briefly, I saw the predator thing rise to his eyes. I saw his throat move, just before his gaze shifted down. He focused briefly on my mouth. I felt the question on him again, but further away that time.

Taking another breath, I shifted closer to where he lay.

Without dropping my gaze, I slid a hand under his shirt, pushing the soft fabric up his body. His skin reacted under my fingers like they carried a faint electrical charge. I watched his eyes though, and they didn’t move. His body didn’t move either, while I caressed him. He seemed to hold his breath, leaning into me gradually as I explored his skin.

It occurred to me that I’d only really seen him without a shirt once, in Seattle...and I pushed the one he wore up further, so I could look at him. I saw the tattoo on his arm, a blue and black band of writing he’d told me on the ship he couldn’t remember how he’d gotten. His chest was covered in fine, dark hairs and still muscular, though not as large as I remembered.

I massaged him slowly, exploring him with my hands.

I felt his breathing grow heavy when I didn’t stop. His fingers tightened on my arm, but otherwise he didn’t move, not even to look at me. I tugged the shirt up past his shoulders.

After the barest pause, he sat up, helping me take it off his head and arms.

When I dropped it to the floor, his fingers found my hair. His body softened, right before he tried to pull my mouth to his, but I stopped him gently with my hand.

I felt pain on him, a caught breath.

“Allie,” he murmured. His voice tugged at me gently.

He seemed to want to say more, but didn’t.

Easing his hands out of the way, I slid into his lap.

He didn’t move as I unhooked his belt, tugging the leather tongue out of a loop, then away from the silver prong. I felt disbelief on him as I pulled it out from around him...just before he caught hold of me. He clenched a hand in my hair as I dropped his belt on the floor.

When I slid deeper into his lap, he let out a low groan.

The sound stopped me, cold.

I looked at him.

“You said it was an open offer, right?” I said, quiet.

His eyes flickered up, off my body, where he stared at me in his lap like he couldn’t believe it. He gazed back at me for a few seconds more, at a loss. His eyes studied mine in the half-dark, as if trying to read me without reaching out.

Then his fingers tightened in my hair, pulling my mouth roughly to his.

He kissed me, using his tongue, his skin flushing hot.

After a few seconds, he groaned against my mouth. I found myself trying to calm him with my light, but he pushed my attempts away, nearly frantic. The urgency on him completely threw me. I tried again to compensate, to slow him down, but he pushed at my light again, gasping against my mouth, his hand under my shirt. When I opened, half in shock, he wound into me until I gasped, until both of us were half-blind with pain. He let out another groan as his body melted under mine, just before he arched against me.

Trying a different tack, I took his hand, bringing it to my breast, and his pain worsened. He slowed though, caressing me gently as I kissed his neck. He pushed up my shirt, using his tongue and his light until I couldn’t think straight, until my fingers clenched in his hair.

He took one of my hands, bringing it down past where his belt had been. He kissed me harder, holding my palm and fingers against the part of him that was now straining his pants. When I massaged him there, he groaned again, louder, his pain rippling out at me until we were both sweating.

“Allie...gods...”

He fell silent. Again, I felt him wanting to say more. He fought to pull back, to control his light. I curled my arm around his neck, caressing his chest.

“Revik, it’s all right,” I murmured. “Baby, it’s all right...let go...”

“Tell me. Please, Allie. Tell me what’s all right...”

I slid deeper into his lap, kissing his face. “I want this,” I said, soft. “I want you.” I kissed him again. “...Do you want me?”

His fingers tightened more. I felt a flicker of disbelief on him again.

He didn’t move though, and he didn’t look up.

Biting my lip, I eased off with my light, sliding backwards slightly on his legs.

“Do you still want to wait?” I said. “Revik, just tell me. I’m not trying to push you...”

I didn’t realize my eyes were glowing until he looked up; I saw his face lit with a greenish cast, my eyes reflected in his.

I could feel more off him now, but in layers, sliding in and out of the edges of his light. Behind his eyes, mine reflected sunlight; my lips curved in a smile, clothing plastered to my body as I waded out of the river, laughing. I felt desire on him...dense...enough that my hands hurt, my mouth, even my tongue. It worsened when I saw him masturbating in the shower, eyes closed, fighting to keep his light from mine in the other room. He leaned against the shower wall, fantasized about fucking me in the field by the river, in front of the fireplace, on the kitchen table, the bed in the other room...

The image faded even as I realized he was trying to shield from me once more, and only half-succeeding. It wasn’t shyness exactly...whatever it was felt closer to fear, an uncertainty of how I saw him...how I might react if he went too far. I felt a consciousness on him of difference between us, in background, in age, in how I was raised...an awareness and memory of how most humans saw him. Hitting me in odd pieces, it brought the pain back, connecting his mind with the look on his face now.

We were kissing then. He leaned back on the couch, pulling me against him, and I shifted deeper into his lap, moving so that I sat astride him. Everything hurt. His hands tightened on my hips, holding them flush with his as he bled his light deeper into mine. I felt intention behind it, a flicker of caution as he wound deeper into me, opening me further.

A blank stretch of time passed before I realized he was taking off my clothes. He worked the catches of the silk shirt with clumsy fingers, still pulling on my light, still trying to bring more of it into his. I sat back on his legs as he eased the last of the shirt off my arms. Then he was looking at me. He stared for a full minute before his eyes closed, longer than a blink.

“Allie,” he said. “Allie...if you’re not sure about this...tell me.”

“If you want to stop,” I said. “...just stop, Revik. Please.”

He picked me up, bringing me with him to the floor.

I felt disbelief in his light again, folded into an urgency that worsened as he lay on me. I stopped him, long enough to help him the rest of the way out of his pants. Circling my waist gently with one arm, he lifted my hips, hooking my underwear with his fingers to ease them down my legs. He paused again once he got them off...long enough to take in my naked body in the light from the window.

His pain turned liquid, sliding deeper as I caressed his chest.

“Please,” he murmured. He was sweating. “Allie. Please...do you really want this? I may not be able to stop...”

His pain flared again, sparking in my light as his slid deeper, trying to open mine more. The reality of what we were doing hit me, snapping me back to where I was, who I was with. He pulled on me harder with his light, trying to loosen my hold on mine. Guilt lived there, but mixed with a desire that shifted into a near desperation. He wanted me to lose control, I realized; he was trying to work his way under my defenses, one by one, in any way he could...trying to seduce me even as I was lying naked under him. Some part of him was hedging his bets, tying me to him, fighting to get me to submit...