Blueshift
72
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Blueshift Chapter Seventy Two (Epilogue part two…
(NC-17)
Disclaimers Apply
A/N Goddess Foxfeather, Queen of Mad Plotbunnies, BUSIEST
WOMAN ALIVE ™, Prophetic Muse, Hamster Witch and Uberbeta… We still call them
;) InterNutter, TC, Maxwell Pink
and Dracena are loverly and wondermous for archiving/hosting.
Morgan: *GLOMP *
Readers/Reviewers: The new fic will
start when I come back Sunday night so… taa
reading/reviewing!!!!!!!!!!!!!
She pressed
her fingers against the glass, her body a map of old scars and freckles in the
waning afternoon light. She was not
alone in the house or even in the room but she did not care at that
moment. She watched the trees stretch
their shadows across the cold ground and shivered.
“Amara, you’re
naked… don’t stand in front of the window,” Lance murmured, unwilling to raise
his voice and break the odd spell of the room.
“Everyone’s
naked at least twice a day,” she pointed out quietly.
looked down at him where he lay on the attic floor.
“I’m
now,” he said flatly, shifting to prop himself up on his elbow and look at her
in the eyes.
“Latin…
very good,” she praised softly. “I think
you’re more welcome here than you believe.
Why did you leave, Lance? Aren’t
you ever coming back?” She knelt on the
dusty floor, the attic storage space being one of the few rooms that had
escaped Storm’s stringent cleaning regime when it came to the mansion itself.
fingers down his bare arm, leaving a trail of warmth in her wake as she moved
across cool flesh. “Are you going to
leave me here and expect me to engage in clandestine meetings like this
whenever you feel so moved?”
He shook
his head, watching the shift of color in her eyes. They seemed to shimmer from
a deep brown to a nearly orange color as she manipulated her powers, making her
skin first almost unbearably warm then a more normal temperature.
he said after a moment or two had passed in relative silence.
being kept in the dark like we are here.”
She looked
down at her hands, resting them on her knees, before looking up at Lance’s
eyes. “And I can’t stand being treated
like a foot soldier, disposable and worthless, serving a master who sees only
his own needs and not the needs of the whole.”
straddled him as if it were the most normal thing in the world to do in the
middle of a discussion. She pressed her
hands against his chest as he gripped her hips lightly.
“Magneto,”
he began, but trailed off in a sigh.
Years of claiming Magneto cared for them, wanted to protect them, had
made the response pat. He no longer
believed it and wondered if he ever truly had.
His body was responding to hers readily, the feeling of her soft flesh
pressing against him drawing response from him even when he thought he was too
tired for another bout of lovemaking in the cold attic.
“Women
prefer not to be called someone else’s name while in the throes of passion,”
she chided, smiling faintly. She slid
back, her sex pressing against his tumescence.
“Lance,” she said softly, closing her eyes as he reached between them
and guided himself into her. “I want to
try to go to Nova Roma again,” she breathed as she settled her weight against
him, taking him in fully.
“Amara,” he
groaned, “Princess, not now, please…”
hissed in sudden pain as her nails scored his chest, raising red welts and tiny
beads of blood along the tracks. “What
was that for?”
She did not
respond verbally but rather sat up a bit further and set the pace for the
session, her hair covering her breasts as it fell from the loose braid she had
put it in, her throat arched as she inhaled and exhaled deeply in the quiet
room. She wanted to go back to Nova Roma
but she did not trust it now. Mars had
tricked her, she now knew, he had kept her from her home, and she was
contrite. _I will not rise above the
gods, _ she reminded herself. _Terrible
things happen when you step above your station…
She gasped sharply as Lance shifted beneath her, arching his hips and
pressing within her. She knew she would
not last long for this bout, her second of the afternoon.
dwell on it. She rocked her hips in time
to some internal rhythm, grinding her hips and flexing internal muscles as she
felt the liquid warmth of climax begin trickling within her veins.
his returning gaze so intent that she felt a blush begin at her throat and work
it’s way down her breasts and over her face.
“Don’t
what?” He gripped her thighs tightly,
leaving red finger marks on olive skin.
He could feel her tighten around him, growing more warm and wet with
each movement. “Don’t look at you?”
She
murmured an incoherent response, her nails digging into his chest without her
realizing it. She gasped her breaths
then, her gaze coming to rest on the lock her wore around his neck, the string
it had been on replaced by a black cord. It hung beneath his shirt when he wore
one and sometimes she wondered if he took it off when he knew she would not be
seeing him shirtless. She reached for
it, her fingers tracing the shape of it as it rested on his chest, following
the line of cord to his neck and moving to his throat.
back as release overtook her.
Lance
wrapped his arms around her as she shivered against him, pressed close in the
wake of her climax. His own was not far
off—he had to bite down on his lower lip to keep quiet for fear of being caught
in the attic with Amara in his arms, naked and, if he were not mistaken,
whispering in Latin. After several long
moments, she moved off of him without his asking her to and he felt cold and
bereft until she stretched out full length against him.
he asked quietly, his fingers coming up to twine in her hair.
She was
quiet for so long that he thought she had fallen asleep. Finally, though, she
answered in a voice that was almost childlike, different from her usual
tone. “No.
she sighed. “Please don’t go to the
Brotherhood again, Lance.”
Lance kissed
her forehead and felt his heart lurch in his chest. “I’ll stay for now,” he
said quietly.
“Then so
will I.”
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sure where that’s from but I know I heard it somewhere so… just know that it’s
not mine.