No Strings Attached

Chapter Eleven

Closing his eyes on a wave of wretchedness, and self loathing, his fingertips played across the delicate indentations of her ribcage, just savouring the feel of her skin. “I was so scared,” he muttered, “I knew I had to say those things, but I was so scared for you. I knew how fragile you were, I thought .... fuck ... I don’t even want to think about what I was thinking. I was so ... bitter inside that I had to live this life – that I had to throw away my girl to keep her safe – I don’t think I even knew what I was saying on the beach that night, I was just so fucking angry with myself that I’d got myself into a position when I had to say it at all. And then, when I got home and you’d stayed the night with Rory, I just ... I lay in my bed and watched shadows on the ceiling for an entire night, praying that you’d walk through the door so that I could just fall at your feet and beg forgiveness, I didn’t get a single moment of peace.” He inhaled quickly, dragging air back into his lungs, and nuzzled his head against her, “And then you were gone, and I couldn’t do a single thing about it.”

“I had to ...” she whispered, despondent.

“I know that now. I know that you were carrying our child; that you wanted to give her everything you’d never had. I think I even understand why you left town to do it – because at home, each and every person you knew would worry – not just for you, but for her as well, and you’d never be left to just ... be a mother, not alone. You wanted to do it alone, so that you could prove to yourself that you could do it ...” he caught her hand with his – interlacing the fingers and watching hers grasp around his, “You’ve got no idea how proud I am of you for that. I knew you were resilient, I knew you could cope with anything you had to – but she was the first thing that ever made you see that.”

Her eyes must have asked the questions, because she knew her mouth could never form the words.

How could he see inside her like this? They’d been apart four and a half years now, how could he have understood every motivation that she’d danced with four years ago so terrible completely that he could lay it out for her so eloquently? She’d barely understood her actions herself, at the time, and only now could she see exactly what she’d been looking for when she ran off to London with their unborn child in her womb.

It had taken her four years of torturing herself with the memories – what if she’d have stayed home? With a doctor she’d had for her entire life, and friends, and support?

And he’d seen it all there within minutes.

Her eyes must have asked the questions.

“I’m another part of you – I’m the other half of your soul,” he whispered, coming up onto the bed – crawling over her so that he could breath the words into her ear, sensually biting her earlobe, “I have no right to say that right now, I know that, and it kills me. I have no claim to your body or your heart right now, and it torments me. But you and I, and I know that, at this moment, you’re preparing for battle in your mind, but we’re made for each other – I was brought to life because of you – to cherish you.”

Her lips were barely open, but her dark eyes never moved from his as he towered over her – she was bewitched by him completely – cast beneath a spell that consumed her, as his declaration became not only this moment, but an echo of the past, and a promise for their future, and with her heart beating a frantic tattoo against her breast, and her lungs constricted, so that she became light, and breathless – she touched her lips against his.

Two feather light brushes of their lips, and he crushed her back into the pillows – groaning into her open mouth as his tongue forcefully pushed through her teeth and penetrated her.

Stripping their clothes with a frenzied haste, their hands explored each others’ flesh as it was exposed, but their mouths clung faithfully to each other – supping and moaning with the desperate need that had inspired them.

“I have to be inside you,” he muttered, devoured by the roaring need in his blood to touch his woman – the mother of his child – to claim her in the most basic, primitive way that he could, “I have to be inside you right now ...”

She fell back into the cushions as his fingers explored her flesh, savouring the heat of her centre, and she pulled his vast, smooth chest over her – her hands running across cords of brawn and muscle beneath his pale skin that brushed against her fingertips like smooth velvet.

Catching the air between her lips, she threw back her head and arched her body with a guttural moan as the coarse smattering of dark hair across his chest abraded against her beaded, sensitized nipples.

With a start, he pulled back almost infinitesimally, realizing which position they were in – remembering her words the last time they’d made love – and he attempted to pull her body over his, but she shook her head no and stayed where she was.

“It’s okay,” she murmured softly, “I know it’s you ...” his lips enveloped her breast – suckling at the dark aureolae as she spoke softly, “Sometimes, this way ... Oh God, Nate ... when we would be like this – with your body over mine – I could still smell your body on my skin ... afterwards ... oh, Nate please!”

“Please what baby?” he murmured, overwhelmed with the force of her words – that instinct that she had to belong to him, God he adored it! He knew she didn’t understand – not completely, but it drove lust straight through his body – directly to his groin, to think of her noticing his scent on her skin after they’d made love.

“You said you wanted to ...” she couldn’t say it, she thought, she couldn’t even find the words in her mind because her body was so coiled with desire.

“I did, didn’t I?” he murmured, fisting his body against hers to thrust deep inside her body slowly, torturously – so that he could draw out the sensation that his body was where it belonged – enveloped in her slick depths, with the internal muscles clenched around his, “I do remember that,” he murmured against the corner of her mouth, licking softly at the full bottom lip, as he slid his flesh into her tight channel, groaning at the overwhelming, consuming awareness that he’d made it home, if only for a moment.

Author's Note:

I uploaded a song on this one - because it's not only a really beautiful piece of music but also, the lyrics are kind of ultra appropriate for understanding how Shannon feels, I think.