new flavor and a break from Tris & Seth
Cotton Candy #27. Taking Advantage with Spinkles and Malt
Rating : R
Timeframe : mid 1260's
Word Count : 425
Malt Prompt : What If? - Dalton post Ilya's death - what if he had one wish
I could have done some sappy - what if Ilya didn't die or Dalton got to bring her back? But I went for a more realistic and attainable wish.
Lonna let out a gasp as strong arms pinned her to the wall and Dalton buried his face in her hair. “The smell of you drives me mad,“ he said, lips hovering close to her ear. Warm breath traveled down her neck. “Is the rest of you, I wonder, so intoxicating?"
“Oh!” she murmured at the brush of his cheek against her own.
“You’re so warm,” he said, nuzzling closer. “What I wouldn’t give for even a taste.”
Lonna jerked her head away, her heart pounding as she caught the soft green eyes set with hunger on her throat. “You can’t have me,” she said. “Not truly.”
His grip on her waist tightened and his lips curled into a smile she knew all too well, even if it was on the wrong face. “I can and will,” he said, setting his lips to her neck. His hand slid up over her ribs. “Every blessed inch of your marvelous-”
“Dalton!” she cried, staring, mouth agape, at the hand that now cupped her, though she made no move to disengage it. “I thought you to be the one with some shred of honor.”
Gentle fingers continued their way around her. “It’s done little to keep me warm.”
She drew a shuddering breath, thoughts clouded by his persistant touch. “So you would seduce your own brother’s wife?”
“Someone should,” he said, tugging at her collar to make room for his lips. Lonna sighed and wound her hand through the soft red mane pressed to her cheek. “When was the last time he touched you?”
Lonna scowled. “What business is that of yours?”
Dalton pried his lips from her and tilted his head to meet her gaze. “That long?” he said.
“I am not discussing this with you,” said Lonna. “Nor am I about to let you have your way with me in the middle of the hall.” She gave the hand still closed over her breast a pointed look.
Dalton grinned and Lonna bit back a sigh as he pressed himself closer. “My door will be open tonight.”
“What makes you think I will come?” she said.
His lips hovered near her own. “You need this as much as I do. You’ll come.” His mouth closed over hers. Lonna shut her eyes and returned the kiss hungrily. Dalton pulled away for breath. His hand grazed her cheek as she gazed wordlessly into his eyes. “I’ll see you tonight,” he said.
Lonna hugged the wall, gulping the air in ragged breaths, as he turned and strode down the hall.
Rating : R
Timeframe : mid 1260's
Word Count : 425
Malt Prompt : What If? - Dalton post Ilya's death - what if he had one wish
I could have done some sappy - what if Ilya didn't die or Dalton got to bring her back? But I went for a more realistic and attainable wish.
Lonna let out a gasp as strong arms pinned her to the wall and Dalton buried his face in her hair. “The smell of you drives me mad,“ he said, lips hovering close to her ear. Warm breath traveled down her neck. “Is the rest of you, I wonder, so intoxicating?"
“Oh!” she murmured at the brush of his cheek against her own.
“You’re so warm,” he said, nuzzling closer. “What I wouldn’t give for even a taste.”
Lonna jerked her head away, her heart pounding as she caught the soft green eyes set with hunger on her throat. “You can’t have me,” she said. “Not truly.”
His grip on her waist tightened and his lips curled into a smile she knew all too well, even if it was on the wrong face. “I can and will,” he said, setting his lips to her neck. His hand slid up over her ribs. “Every blessed inch of your marvelous-”
“Dalton!” she cried, staring, mouth agape, at the hand that now cupped her, though she made no move to disengage it. “I thought you to be the one with some shred of honor.”
Gentle fingers continued their way around her. “It’s done little to keep me warm.”
She drew a shuddering breath, thoughts clouded by his persistant touch. “So you would seduce your own brother’s wife?”
“Someone should,” he said, tugging at her collar to make room for his lips. Lonna sighed and wound her hand through the soft red mane pressed to her cheek. “When was the last time he touched you?”
Lonna scowled. “What business is that of yours?”
Dalton pried his lips from her and tilted his head to meet her gaze. “That long?” he said.
“I am not discussing this with you,” said Lonna. “Nor am I about to let you have your way with me in the middle of the hall.” She gave the hand still closed over her breast a pointed look.
Dalton grinned and Lonna bit back a sigh as he pressed himself closer. “My door will be open tonight.”
“What makes you think I will come?” she said.
His lips hovered near her own. “You need this as much as I do. You’ll come.” His mouth closed over hers. Lonna shut her eyes and returned the kiss hungrily. Dalton pulled away for breath. His hand grazed her cheek as she gazed wordlessly into his eyes. “I’ll see you tonight,” he said.
Lonna hugged the wall, gulping the air in ragged breaths, as he turned and strode down the hall.