Forbidden Safety

~*~

The night is so deep. He moves above me, and my eyes closes on the darkness, forgetting it for a few seconds of pure ecstasy. But it’s still on me, in me. I don’t feel like I can do much about it, I just live with it and go on. My hips meets his and I hear his feral grunt, making me shiver with pleasure. He’s my safe haven, my lifebelt. All those times I was with others, with \'better\' guys don’t seem so important and powerful, now that he’s there, pushing himself into me and loving, worshipping me with his eyes and hands.

Of course he knows about this shadowed part of my life, of my soul. He accepts it. Not like he can do otherwise, because he has one himself. We all have one. His is full of bar fights and drunken nights, full of nasty scars and dirty girls. Mine is full of sex with strangers to drown the sorrow, full of self-hatred and lies to everything, everybody.

We both accept each other, even with our twisted ways of living because of that string…that bond so harsh and so sweet, so good and so bad. Love. Love is what force us to go on. How many times did I express the need to get away from him, to forget him ? Too many to count. How many times did he said he hated me, that he wanted to escape from this relationship ? Too many times to count. But still, we’re here. Consuming each other in our always renewed passion.

My hands travel down his sweaty back to grip his hips and his primitive biting of my neck makes me know that he’s loving it. But God, how I know it. Years we’ve been doing that. His friends left , tired of trying to put up with him, my friends stopped to even care about putting up with me. So we found each other in a fated night, and since then, nothing but daylight was keeping us apart.

I cry out in raw desire for him to go harder, faster. To drive me with all his strength to that peak, to that edge where I thought I was happy. Only he could make me feel that way. The others are just some toys to let all my pent-up energy out. They aren’t making me feel good like he is. I often told myself that love did the trick. Maybe, after all.

His pace quickens and I clutch his shoulders, drawing blood. I know it doesn’t bother him. All the bite marks and the imprints of our lovemaking couldn’t bother him. He loves me, he is in love with me. He tells me so each time he explodes inside me, and I tell him each time he leaves my apartment to go back to his dusty one. I love him, I’m in love with him.

I’m safe when I’m in his arms. His strong and pale arms. I feel it so much, when he holds me. When he picks me up to crush me against the wall and kisses me with need. We are together, but apart. Our minds are connected. But ours bodies can’t be. They are in these moments, moments that we would like to last forever. But we know it’s impossible. It’s forbidden.

I am forbidden. I’m the fruit he’s eating when he shouldn’t. I’m the pleasure he’s getting when he shouldn’t. With me, he feels, he loves, he acts. All of this is forbidden, for him. He just follow orders. He shouldn’t.

I roll us up to get on top of him. My hands against his steely chest, I ride him restlessly, never letting my eyes off of his. His gray orbs, shining with desire and passion. So many things he has to hide. I know my own eyes reflects his own, and I can’t help but thinking I have to hide it as much as him. Nobody can know, how I feel about this man. Nobody can know I have flaws. Nobody, never.

He’s the one and only I will forever trust with everything. My body, my soul, my love, my life. The others are just random and untrustworthy. The history behind us can only reinforce that. Reinforce what we feel each time we’re together and our bodies connect. I don’t need to tell that our minds are connected, we both know it. Without him, I wouldn’t be myself. I experienced it before, I don’t want to do it again. Too many grief, too many guilt, too many pain.

I twist my hips and he thrusts into me in an animalistic way, and my head falls back, before he sit up to kiss, suck and nip my neck. There’s no way I would want anything else, so why sleeping with others ? Because he’s not here all the time. Because his fucked up life forces him to leave him sometimes for months. And even if that sex with these guys can’t, won’t ever top what I’m living when I’m with him, it’s always sex, and it’s always feelings.

Because I only feel when I’m with him, or when I’m having sex. The friction between the bodies, the sweat slicked skins, the moans and groans, and that moment. The moment when I feel them emptying themselves into me...Of course I cannot have an orgasm with them, they’re too far away from what he makes me feel. They’re too far away from making me shiver with intensity, from making my skin burn with a touch, from making my blood boil with a few kisses.

He loves driving me to insanity. I see it in his eyes, in his ways. And right now, now that he has taken the top place once again, I see it. I feel it. The hunger inside him, the beast ready to go out. I know he’s almost there, and he knows I am almost there, too. His head comes to hide in the crook of my neck and my fingers caress the few strands of silky, damp hair as the base of his neck. He pounds and pounds and pounds into me, harder, faster, without any fear to hurt me. He knows that he won’t. Our love is too strong, too hard, to be breakable. He can’t break me, I can’t break him. I am what he’s grasping when he’s breaking, and so is he for me.

Sometimes I feel like it. Breaking down, letting everything flow away from me and hide forever in sadness. But each time I began to dwell in darkness, he came up and put light into the hole of my heart. My blackness fades out when he’s here.

And there were times where he sobbed into my arms in the middle of the night, crying away his pain and disgusting life. Told me that he didn’t feel like going on anymore. And these times were the times I put light in the hole of his heart.

He drives into me and I’m beginning to tense. It’s in these moments I know I wouldn’t be able to live without him. Wouldn’t be happy at all. Nobody could have ever predicted that. That love, that bond, that need we have for each other. I can’t explain it, won’t try to. One day, we will stop this forbidding. We will walk away from our old lives, hand in hand, heads up, in the sunlight. And fuck to all of you who put a forbidden sign above our heads. He broke all his rules, for me, and I broke mine for him.

I wrap my legs around his waist and press my feet into his muscled butt to have him inside as much as I can. He kisses me then, his tongues caressing mine in such a hard way that mimic the actions of his lower body, that is caressing my insides. I feel complete, finally. Our bodies embedded in one, I feel like I belong somewhere.

And then comes the thrust, which sets me off. Hot, white light. Arching my back, pushing my breasts in his body, I yell my love for Merlin and his magic and finally close my eyes. He keeps going, riding me through my orgasm and building his own. I caress his back, my hand coming in contact with hard muscles rolling under soft skin. He’s hiding so much, under his robes. Girls only see, the big, manly but lean hands, the sweet hypocritical smile, white teeth, dimples, the satin like hair, glowing in the sun, and the cold gray eyes. They don’t see the rock on shoulders, the amazingly well built chest, chiselled, the powerful legs, so well trained to run. They can’t see those.

He growls and finally let himself go. He’s the only one I do not ask to do any MST\'s potion. Because I trust him, because I know him. Because maybe that one day, I’ll stop muttering protection\'s spells and let myself have his kids. Because I need to feel him inside me, even when he just slipped off.

His weight on me doesn’t bother me. I kinda like it, he feels even more here that way. The light stubble he got tickles my face, and I just laugh, shrugging it off. That doesn’t bother me either. Nothing really can, when it comes to him. Of course, we had our fights, and these times everything would. Pretty hot fights, by the way. We can’t do anything like normal people. Everything has to be harder, stronger, and needs to hurt more, or to feel better. But I will keep up with him, as he will keep up with me.

And suddenly, the night isn’t so deep anymore.