midnight caresses [brahms heelshire x kendra oc]

it's just a dream

Night had fallen, a certain type of quiet blanketing the house along with a midnight dew. Within the walls, he could sense the changes in weather more perceptively, skin tingling in anticipation. Weeks had passed, and Brahms was beginning to adjust back into his usual routines of sneaking around, careful to be stealthy since he no longer lived alone.

Oh, how he missed human interaction, touch.

It was what pulled him from the walls he called home, and made him step outside of his usual routines.

And tonight would be no different, his guest — someone who was more of a permanent resident now — had enticed him greatly as the days blurred by. He couldn't stay away for much longer, the grip on his control loosening with each passing night that he watched her — Kendra.

Brahms had learned her name through the new mail that'd started coming to the house, and the way her mother said it slyly when Kendra put her on speaker phone. They had a routine of calling one another almost every evening, and he enjoyed listening in, hanging off every word his Kendra said, eager to learn more about her.

What he didn't gather from eavesdropping, he learned through watching. His night owl tendencies proved to be advantageous, allowing him to drift closer each night without her even knowing.

It was perfect... just as she was.

But now he was ready to take the next step with her.

He hoped she was too, he'd been such a good boy.

Creeping lithely through the passageways, he soundlessly slipped from a hidden door that deposited him in her room. And the fragrance that branded her as her, overpowered his senses.

Even within the stillness of her bedroom, shower steam long dissipated, he could scent the distinct warmth of leather mingling with spices and tobacco leaf. It was dark, sultry, and took him back to when he played among the leatherbound stacks in his family's home library. Deep fruity notes lingered beneath everything else and he suddenly wanted to take a bite.

One little brush of his nose against her soft skin wouldn't hurt...

No.

Thankfully, his mask sat firmly in place, reminding him of his original intent, and he didn't miss his shattered reflection as he passed in front of one of her mirrors.

That sobered him.

A couple paces away sat the four poster bed, Kendra's bundled form tucked away from the world. It was just the two of them in this moment — as it should be. His finger traced over the picture frames she'd set up on her dressing, gazing upon her smile within the photos, not caring to look at anyone else.

No one else mattered, not anymore.

The universe had granted him a second chance, he'd be a fool to waste it.

Brahms' feet made no sound on the hardwood floor beneath his feet, knowing the creaks within the house like the back of his hand. Looming over her sleeping form, he was stunned at how beautiful she was this close, ebony lashes fluttering against her cheeks as she dreamed.

What did she dream of?

Recently, she'd braided her hair, taming the wild curls he'd first seen her in, and his hand itched to reach out and clutch one, to feel a piece of her against his skin.

But he refrained.

His breath whispered against his mask, the only sound inside the room outside of Kendra's own breathing. Counting her breaths to pass the time, he was content to stand there forever, watching.

That was a lie... he wanted to do more.

Wanted to lie beside her, smell her... taste her.

Clenching his hand into a fist, letting his short nails bite into his palm, he remained steadfast in his intentions.

Just observe...

And maybe allow just a faint touch of his finger.

As if hearing his loud thoughts, she shifted in her sleep, startling Brahms out of his trance. His heart leapt into his throat and for a moment, he was certain she would open her eyes, spotting him lurking.

Being a bad boy.

But she didn't.

Instead, she rolled over onto her back, finally exposing her elegant shoulders and neck, sleep tank top leaving her skin on display.

So much skin...

Now his teeth ground together in restraint.

One touch wouldn't hurt.

Before he could stop himself, his hand moved as if it had a mind of its own, hungry for human touch.

Affection.

The skin of her shoulder was warm, so warm, it almost made him throw every rational thought out of his head, but he withheld.

Was the rest of her this warm?

He'd only known two women's touch and both had only left him with more questions than answers. Hopefully, it would be different this time, he internally begged Kendra to be different.

Trailing the lone finger down the expanse of her upper arm, he only stopped when he reached the edge of the blanket she was tucked under. Not wanting to wake her, he reversed, following the same path back up, skating over her collar bone and the hollow of her throat. Brahms swore he could detect the light beat of her pulse... but he was so nervous it could've been his own he felt. Either way, he was enraptured by her, admiring the sighs she made in her sleep at his touch — the goosebumps that erupted across her dark skin.

Oh, how he wished to make her shudder.

Leaning in, he allowed himself one last pleasure before he left. Through the holes of his mask, he tucked his face near her temple, anxious to inhale her scent straight from the source.

And it did not disappoint.

The fragrance that lingered in her room — that was beginning to overtake his home — was stronger here, the deep, cozy scent overtaking him. And what made it even better was the fact that it mingled with her sweat, creating a mixture that had him biting his tongue.

Had his cock straining at the seam in his pants.

Satisfied, as much as he could be for now, he let his fingers brush across her arm one last time, not wanting to push his luck.

After many agonizing minutes of him holding back, only letting the tips of his fingers graze across her deep skin, did he pull away.

Take it slow, take it slow, he repeated, willing to do whatever to keep her within his grasp.

And before the sun could catch him, shed light on his indiscretions, he slunk back into the night — into the walls — with one of her dresses clutched between his fingertips.