Fickle Flame | OT7

Blood In The Air

"What is this?" He knows the pattern for the facultas and this is not part of it.

She sits back on her heels, her gaze dropping to the floor between them. "It's a combination of infinity and passion. Geo taught me, he said it would help support the facultas and if nothing else, let us share something a little more private... something just for us. You're the first to receive this mark and I'm the first to give it." As much as she fights it, tears slide down her cheeks and drip from her chin, her bottom lip trembling.

He reaches out with a thumb and brushes her chin, removing the tears gathered there. "What..."

She shakes her head and grabs the packet. "This is for you." She sets it down before him and stands, walking as far away as the small space will allow, her back to him. She hears the wrapping rustle and tear. She can feel his presence behind her before he places his hand on her shoulder and turns her to face him. Their eyes meet and then hers drop down, taking in the leather vest he now wears.

"You know, only true warriors are supposed to wear these. I wasn't supposed to receive this until I returned," he fingers the worn leather, his eyes momentarily going to the stitched symbol on the right panel, the symbol for a tested warrior.

"I know that but I also know you are already a true warrior... to me."

He pulls her close, his arms wrapping around her. He murmurs into her hair "Thank you for believing in me."

Her hands come up to rest on his hips. "I've always believed in you and I always will."

He pulls away slightly, the absence of his flesh against her makes her realize how much of the paste has transferred to her. Her flesh is flushed and tingly even through her shirt. "This stuff kind of burns. How can you stand it?"

He smiles. "It goes numb after a while."

She reaches up and pinches his left nipple between her right index finger and thumb. "Feel that?" He jumps slightly and laughs. She pinches a little harder.

"Oww, okay, that I felt."

She laughs, her eyes gaining a devilish twinkle. He wraps an arm around her waist and pulls her against his chest, causing more paste to get on her. "Hey, that's not even fair! I worked hard on those." She pushes against his chest trying to pull away. He wraps his other arm around her, pinning her against him.

"You're not going anywhere," there is a husky tone to his voice, almost raw. She squirms against him but she's held fast. She turns her face up, her eyes locking with his. There is a passion shining in his eyes that she has never seen before, something deeper and more vulnerable. Warren has always been a man of masks, ever stoic and unreadable unless he really wants you to see beneath the surface. She stops struggling against him and her heart begins to hammer inside her chest. She watches as a bead of sweat slips down his left temple, she swallows hard against the growing ache in her chest.

Her lips part and start to form a word but his mouth against hers silences anything she was about to say. His lips part, his hot breath mingling with hers. His tongue tentatively traces the inside of her top lip. Her hands snake up, fingers threading through his hair pulling his face closer. Her lips crush against his, tongue pushing into his mouth.

He moans softly against her mouth and pulls her tighter against him. She shifts her hips, grinding against him. His hands roam over her back, down to her hips, his fingertips sliding beneath the waistband of her jeans. His right hand moves down past the denim and cups her ass, fingers digging into her supple flesh. His grip on her ass tightens as he pushes his hips against hers, harder. She can feel a bulge growing between them. Breaking away from the kiss, Shayne's breath comes in small gasps. She licks her lips, his taste lingering there, as she looks up and meets his eyes.