Holding Back

Writers: Dana, Eimi
Date Posted: 10th September 2006

Characters: Larken, M'tone
Description: Larken pushes the boundaries of her propriety just a little further...
Location: Harper Hall
Date: month 13, day 23 of Turn 3

"Shards, M'tone, I can't believe the Weyrlin'master let you live to _tell_ that story! What a trouble-maker you were!" Larken snorted, collapsing into a fit of tipsy laughter on his sofa.

"Was there any doubt in your mind that I was a corrupter even then?" he chuckled as he flopped down beside her. "You should have seen his face!
He never got drunk at Turns End again, let me tell you."

Grinning, she took another drink, watching as the alcohol bubbled at the top. "Did he get drunk with this stuff? 'Cause it's really tasty. I can't blame him if he did."

"Here, let me have a sip," the brownrider smiled as he took the glass from her, more to stop her from drinking too fast than because he really wanted some. If she showed up too drunk, it could spell trouble for her, and he didn't want that. Taking a sip he set the glass down on the table and turned to lay his arm across the back of the couch. "I don't know _what_ he was drinking that night, actually. Shards, I can barely remember what _I_ was drinking."

"I can't even imagine what it's going to be like here at Turn's End."
Larken started to reach for the glass again. "If it's anything like the Hatching feast, I think I'm going to love it!"

"Oh yes, it's wonderful," M'tone said as he snatched the glass away before she could take it. "Dancing and music and... drinking... Speaking of
which," he took another long sip, "you want more?"

"Uh huh," she nodded, eyes fixed on the glass. "You want to share?"

"No," he grinned as he set the glass back down on the table. "I want to kiss you."

Larken studied his face for a moment before grinning back, tossing her hair over a shoulder. "Okay."

He leaned back against the arm of the sofa, reached up to cradle her face and pulled her down to him. He hummed appreciatively as he broke the kiss just enough to whisper, "You taste really good." Like redfruit wine, in fact.

"So do you," she whispered back, coming in close to kiss him again. This time, though, the tip of her tongue slid against his upper lip. Shards and shells....he really did taste good.

He took the hint, opened his mouth and welcomed her in as his fingers wandered along her sides. She had been quite specific with him. Nowhere that her undergarments covered. But that left a whole lot of skin for him to explore.

The sensations rippling through her were delicious, and Larken--despite the haze of the wine--was quite aware of the heat starting to build between them. Carefully she inched further up his body, hand moving to bury itself in his hair while the other moved to his waist.

Slowly he began inching her tunic higher, fingers stroking her soft skin.
"I promise..." he whispered between kisses, "nowhere your undergarments touch..."

"And nowhere where yours do either," she whispered back, completely forgetting the fact that he certainly hadn't laid down any rules. In fact, he probably would rather there weren't any at all... Wine had always muddled her sense.

Larken's hand slipped beneath the hem of his tunic, fingers lightly splayed as they rested against his hard, flat stomach. It was so different than anything she'd ever felt before. Sliding her mouth from his, she curiously looked down at the tanned skin she'd bared, pulled taut over muscle. Gently she traced her fingers up, head tilted as she waited, intruiged, for his reaction.

A slow smile spread across his lips. It was encouraging, almost daring her to do whatever she had in mind to do.

Her fingers caressed lightly up his sides to his chest, marveling at how sharding gorgeous he was looking up at her like that. With that shock of blonde hair, and those eyes... With an impish grin that seemed almost out of character, Larken leaned down to trail her lips up the line of his chest, stopping when cloth got in her way.

The brownrider was not about to let a bit of cloth get in the way of their fun. He pulled his tunic the rest of the way over his head and carelessly dropped it behind the sofa. His eyebrow raised curiously as he looked up at her. _Now_ what was she going to do?

Leaning down again, she kissed her way up to his collarbones, then after a moment, glanced up at him through the veil of her hair with eyes brightened by the wine and a familiar ache. "You like that?" she asked softly, hesitant voice at odds with the longing expression on her face.

He nodded. M'tone decided he did indeed like this new Larken. The wine had loosened her up considerably, and he wondered just how far she would push her silly boundaries of propriety. "Keep going."

Emboldened, she pressed a swift kiss to his lips before once again moving back down his chest, mouth roving over places that would have made her blush furiously if she'd been sober. Sighing, she pressed her cheek against his stomach, hands resting on his waist, a part of her still much too shy to move them anywhere else. But how she wanted to!

Faranth, he would be happy to just lay that way all night. She was a gentle weight on him, warm and soft. He reached down to run a thumb along her cheek. So soft...

A smile touched her lips and her lashes fluttered a little, very aware of every place their bodies touched. Leaning into his caress, she whispered softly without any fear of the consequences, "I wish I could stay here all night like this. With you."

A soft smile touched his lips. "I do too."

Gently she kissed his skin, one hand moving down his leg as she pushed herself up a little further. And her hand didn't move once she was comfortable again. In fact, her fingers tightened slightly as she nestled contentedly against him.

M'tone was aware of everywhere she touched him as her body slid along his. Her lips burned, and her fingers left trails of fire along his leg.
Shards, he just wanted to _feel_ her next to him, with nothing in between
- not cloth, not husbands, not propriety. It was the way it _should_ be.
The way he knew they both wanted it to be...

"Sometimes at night," she murmured softly, "I wonder what it would be like to make love with you."

Why did she keep having to talk about it? Waiting for her to be ready was hard enough, but to know just how close they were... It was hard to take.
"I'm just waiting for you, Larken," he whispered back, wishing he could just carry her off into his bed and finally be with her the way they both longed for.

"So you think about it too?" If she'd been completely sober, Larken would never have even dreamed of asking him such a question--especially since she already knew the answer, and ladies of polite society never spoke aloud of such things. But the wine had loosened more than her tongue, and she propped her chin up on his hard stomach to look at him, blue eyes soft.

M'tone looked down into those big, almost innocent eyes. Shards but she was so seductive, and she didn't even realize it. Perhaps that was what made her even more alluring. Plenty of women in the Weyr knew just how to pull a man in by flaunting their bodies, looking at him just so with their eyes, moving in just the right ways to tell him how much they wanted him.
Larken could have the same effect on him, and she didn't even know. "I do think about it. I'm thinking about it right now. And... and I think you should go."

A line creased her brow. "Go?" She blinked, then shook her head. "No.
I don't want to."

"I don't want you to go either, love," he said, taking a deep breath and cursing the ways of the world outside. "But if you don't go I won't hold back."

"But you promised, M'tone," she murmured, rising a little on her elbows.
"You promised you would..."

"I know I promised," he said, raising his hand to stop her protests.
"That's why I'm asking you to go."

Suddenly feeling decidedly awkward, Larken shifted, moving slowly back to sit on her heels. Then she raised her eyes once more to his, knowing she couldn't quite mask her hurt--though she knew she really shouldn't _be_ hurt. Not when it was her own doing. But it was hard to think past her own emotions, especially when she was a little drunk and he was so close...

He couldn't mistake the hurt that shone in her face, but he knew in the morning she'd understand. "Besides," he said gently as he sat up and reached for her hand, "don't you need to be there when your husband comes home? I don't want to cause trouble for you."

**You already are...** Her fingers linked with his. "You're right. It's getting kind of late, isn't it?"

"I suppose so," he said, giving her hand a gentle squeeze and helping her to her feet. "Can you come again tomorrow?"

"What time tomorrow?"

"Have dinner with me here." He made a mental note to hide the wine. It seemed to lead to trouble...

She gave him a small smile. "Okay."

"I'll see you tomorrow then," he said as he reached for the door knob.
Before opening, though, he leaned down to give her a soft, frustratingly chaste kiss. "Sweet dreams, Larken."

Last updated on the September 10th 2006

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Holding Back