Terra Nova - Things Lost in the Fire ch13 [Skye/Lucas]
Title: Things Lost in the Fire
Fandom: Terra Nova
Ship: Skye/Lucas
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: bad language, sexual situations, AU
Chapter: 13/?
Summary: Pre-Series. AU story. Skye meets a strange man at Snakehead Falls and ends up falling in love. But can happiness built on anonymity last, when the world around them is on fire?
Author's Note: I had a small emotional breakdown after writing the first porpotion of this chapter. These two just... kill me.
Things Lost in the Fire
13. Fuel for the Fire
"Can't we just skip the apologies and admit we both did wrong? Can't we just get to the part where you kiss me when you want to and don't hold back?"
She'd worded it better in her head; in the countless speeches she'd made wordlessly her voice hadn't shivered, her hands hadn't kept him in place. She had sounded strong and loving, not like someone who couldn't even keep herself from falling apart. There wasn't quite any reason that justified her request, and she knew those phases were important for the bigger picture. Still she needed him more than forced assurances, especially since the scale was pretty much balanced according to her calculations: Equally guilty, equally hurting, and equally yearning.
Lucas hadn't expected something like this from her, this banged girl who was so obviously mad at him, at his father, at all of them. He knew she was not alright with the lies, with the actions they'd taken to get here, just as he wasn't. That day they'd met had been perfect, nothing had weighted them down. Whereas reality was harsh, it gave them no shelter, no room to breathe between hits.
Actions had consequences, betrayal needed to be punished - or so his mind told him. He tried to find that man inside him, who'd been so entangled with her that he didn't care who she was or what she stood for. All he could find was the man, who held onto petty disputes, took any excuse to blow off some steam, and hid the painful things behind a façade.
He wanted to hate her, but couldn't - not when she was everything he hadn't known he needed. Lucas tried to brush the shame and agony aside for her, as he knew he was the reason she'd been banished from her home, from her family. She didn't deserve misery with him, when she'd followed the wrong path just to catch up with him.
His hands rose to her hands, which were still clasping the front of his shirt and holding him in place. He cleared his mind from the negative and focused on her fragile expression, seeing so clearly how she held onto hope. He removed her hands gently, brushing his fingers over her skin, that simple touch causing her grip to relent and her hands to fall over his chest.
She nibbled her lower lip nervously, feeling her failure. She lowered her gaze, not quite able to keep back her disappointment. Then she realized he was pushing closer to her, her hands were folding more and more, inch by inch. Looking up again wary and fearful, she recognized his mood in an instant. He tried to push back his anger, yet it remained clear in his intense eyes, that lustful glare.
"Is that all you want?" he growled smoothly, his hands finding their way around her, quickly caging her in his embrace. "Intimacy but not openness?"
Oh, she could tell she'd hit him hard, harder than she'd even expected. Their little scene by the waterfront, all that coldness, the cruel way he'd introduced her to the reality of being nothing but a ploy to Taylor, it had just been foreplay, a little teaser of his resentment. Something foreign moved inside her as she watched him slowly bring her closer, lips approaching hers. His movement was predatory: both playful and a little dangerous.
And she liked this glimpse, this darkness. Suddenly she wasn't afraid of being hurt anymore.
"This is just the way I want it," she told him, thinking that tenderness would've been the lie. She would rather embrace this dispute, this flicker of honesty. Skye pushed her lips against his before he could answer, claiming the rest of his sanity. It plunged them both into madness.
Everything hurt and felt ecstatic at the same time. His grip was too tight when he framed her face and her nails prickled his chest through the fabric once she grasped him again. He kissed her forcefully, finding pleasure in her flinching, each muffled wince. He knew he shouldn't have; he'd yearned to be a stronger man, a better man for her, but he really wasn't.
Her hands snaked up his neck, fingers curling violently into his hair. The six months she'd dreamed of being in his arms again were erased, tender dreams forgotten and replaced by this brutal encounter. It didn't take him long to feel the restraint of his pants against his erection; it pressed against her stomach, made her want to inhale, retreat.
"I should've come for you earlier," he confessed when her lips began trailing his jawbone, finding that lovely spot between his jaw and shoulder where his scars were located.
"Not a word," she hissed, unwilling to hear it now. This wasn't about that, it wasn't about the painful reconciliation they'd have to go through. It was about seeing who they really were, how far they were really willing to go.
Lucas couldn't help grunting as her body squirmed against him, each touch against his arousal like adding fuel to the fire. He glanced down at her, practically seeing inside her shirt as she was kissing his neck, her tongue licking his skin, the sweat. He couldn't quite help feeling that she'd lured him into a trap, that whatever issues they had between them were small in comparison to the fear he'd never get to feel this way with her again. His neck tensed, rippling pain across his body when she bit him.
He tore her away from him with a jerk after landing his steady hands on her shoulders. His eyes were upon her, humiliation and exhilaration pushing him to action. He didn't know how she did it, but her actions were pushing him towards freefall, towards forgetting, and damn he wanted to tell her off, ask her to stop and be her sweet self again. She responded to his stare, his forceful gesture, by lifting her chin defiantly.
"Clothes," she demanded, her ragged breath nearly stealing her voice. And despite his attempts to gain control - because he never lost control even when he lost his temper - her will was stronger than his.
First only one hand retreated, then the other, and soon he was removing his clothes. Skye followed suit, leaned over to pull off her boots, threw away her shirt, wriggled out of her pants. Sweat pearled on her, especially gathered over her bosom. She stood up again, pushed her wayward hair off her face. She was wearing nothing but her underwear at that point, and she noticed he was already fully naked.
He didn't ask her anything else after that - the point of no return had passed, and he'd given up.
Lucas took hold of her hips, pushing against her to her bewilderment. He unclasped her bra with just one hand, kissing the edge of her jaw as he did it. His hand found its way to her shoulder, pushing down the shoulder strap there, and then moving to the other side. The bra fell off; he pushed them towards the bed for a few steps, leaving her almost fumbling in the dim light as she wasn't familiar with the layout of his hut.
His forehead was throbbing, everything focused on the bruise there. It was darker now, less sensitive, but very much sore nevertheless. She was shining in his arms, dizzy from his affection, satisfied with the way he tried to take charge. A bittersweet smile on her lips, eyes drowning in his. She held onto his upper arms, body pressed against his, while he hesitated, not knowing the steps to this dance.
"Bed," she told him softly but defiantly, and he tossed her down, the soft surface breaking her abrupt fall. She pulled away her remaining underwear while he watched, having forgotten how beautiful she looked even she was covered in bruises and scars.
This was different from her dreams, her fantasies. He'd always been kind to her, until she'd realized it was a side he only showed her. Watching him trade with his father, showing a different face altogether, she'd understood what a small flame that side of him was, a flicker in the dark.
He kneeled on the edge of the bed, creeping over her on his knees and hands. She held her breath, watched him advanced until he was upon her, and she brought her hands to his cheeks. The soft fabric of her bandages rubbed his face, made him aware of her wounded wrists again. He'd neatly ignored the bandage on her back as well, a painful reminder of how cruel he could be when he wanted. He didn't want her kindness, so he pulled his face back, out of her reach. As she frowned, he smirked and leaned in to kiss the valley between her breasts.
Then he pulled her hands together, clasping them over her head. She didn't resist, just accepted everything, anticipation all over her face. "C'mon," she whispered her brave invitation, and he followed through, entering her.
It was torture, how he moved inside her: slow, sweet torture. He tried to hold her hands still as gently as possible despite the way her body rocked beneath him, yet found it impossible. So his hand slid onto one hand, fingers twining with hers, one hand released from his grip. She didn't take it away though, no, she slid it under the hand he held, the pressure holding it still.
He didn't caress her, he didn't whisper promises in her ear or act particularly lovingly. She didn't mind, her eyes fluttered open and closed, the maddening motion felt heavenly. He leaned against his hand, also putting small weight on the hand that had captured hers. Lucas watched her intently, observing her reactions, how her eyebrows knit together with ecstasy. She struggled, began to push into his thrusts, eyes rolling and closing. She stared at the ceiling when they were open.
Everything was aflame; heat burned her skin, sweat dribbling from his body to hers. They were silent this time, each moan and grunt was muffled, contained. Even if this was home, their actions weren't meant for anyone else's ears. She shifted her pelvis, the new angle intensifying the pleasure. He felt her crush his hand as she came undone, eyes flying open, drilling into him. And for a moment there, she had her oblivion.
He quickened his movement once he recognized her surrender, reaching his peak a little while later. Lassitude entered his body, relaxed his muscles, demanding him to rest. He pulled away, standing up to blow out the light in the lantern. The last thing he saw though was her wiping away tears from her cheeks as discreetly as possible. Lucas blew the fire out and returned to the bed, this time lying by her side, spooning her as she turned away from him.
Skye had pulled the blanket on her, buried herself in its softness and warmth. Her wrists were aching now, though they hadn't while they'd made love. Her cheeks were still wet, even if had been just a few lousy tears (over being so overwhelmed by the experience). Everything about her felt new, different. She didn't know if the change was good or bad, but she embraced it anyway.
He adjusted himself, pulling her into his arms before she noticed. Skye turned just a bit, suddenly finding her ear on his chest, listening to his raging heartbeat. Lucas pressed his lips on her temple, one arm beneath her.
"I should've come for you earlier," he repeated his earlier words she'd cut off. "I should've stopped you before you left me," he confessed, bringing tears back into her eyes. "I never thought you'd leave me."
"I'm here now, Lucas," Skye said, a tinge of sadness in her voice.
"Don't betray me again," he pleaded rather than told her, which in itself reminded her of the reasons she was in love with him.
"I won't," she promised, hoping he wouldn't put her in a situation where she had to choose again.
She drifted to sleep soon after, but Lucas lay awake for awhile, holding onto her under the foolish fear that she might disappear again if he closed his eyes.
The morning breeze pushed against the tense canvas of their hut. It was gentle, warm and inviting. Lucas' eyes struggled to open despite the bliss that overwhelmed his senses. They had drifted during the night, shifted countless times, yet remained entangled despite it. He was still spooning her but Skye was almost cradled to a ball with Lucas and the blanket protecting her from outside threats.
He smiled against her, taking his time to recover from sleep. It felt so good to be like this. Yet the morning sun crept into the hut between the cracks, it alerted him to the dawn of a new day. He could even make out distinct noises in the distance, signs that the camp was beginning to wake.
Lucas withdrew his hand from her waist carefully, pulling away in a manner that would disturb her sleep the least. She pretended to be tough, to be alright, yet he knew better. She needed some sleep, some time to mend her bruises, both emotional and physical. If he could fool her into sleeping just a little bit longer, she'd have that serenity.
He dressed himself lazily, eyes wandering over to her during the small breaks between different garments. Clad in pants and a sleeveless shirt he searched for his papers, piled them and bound with a piece of string before he stuffed them inside his satchel. Skye stirred at this point, her brain slowly coming to terms with the fact that she was alone. Her hand reached from him blindly, catching his attention right away. Lucas walked up to the bed and kneeled, taking her hand in his.
"Morning Bucket," he whispered, attempting to pacify her dreamy distress.
Her eyes were open in an instant and she tried to move, stung by the resistance of her weary muscles. Skye gave up almost immediately, settling to turn her face to Lucas. "Everything hurts," she whined, although her voice had playfulness in it. A moment later he caught her smiling a sly smile, as she tugged his arm, beckoning him to approach her.
"I didn't mean to hurt you," Lucas apologized self-consciously, ashamed of how roughly he'd treated her.
"Yes you did," she responded. There was no accusation in her words though; she'd invited the heavy handling and enjoyed it. She'd rather he unravel with her like this than through more nefarious means if he was angry.
"And I didn't tell you to stop, did I?" she then questioned, already knowing he couldn't argue with her reasoning.
Skye grabbed the blanket that shielded her nakedness and pulled it away from her whilst slipping her hand away from his. The yank felt uncomfortable for a moment, but it passed. She then started to move her aching body up to a sitting position. Every muscle complained at first, discontent with the labor she was putting them into. Lucas watched her efforts almost frozen, desire bubbling inside him again.
Eventually she made it to the edge of the bed and managed to get on her two feet with Lucas' support. A satisfied expression spread across her face, even the cool air felt better than a moment ago. Then she was suddenly being moved like a mannequin, as Lucas lifted her arms up and pulled a shirt over her head. It was baggy, clearly one of his, but it served its purpose, which was covering her.
Skye shot him with a questioning look as she ran her hands across the fabric, adjusting the shirt to fit her petite form better. She rolled up the sleeves next.
"You were damaging my calm," Lucas explained with a wink.
She frowned at his answer, seduction creeping into her voice, "I am? Do you need to be calm?"
Lucas tensed at bit upon hearing her voice, seeing the way she teased him. It was an instant flashback into last night, the way she'd taken charge and helped him deal with the impulses he'd wanted to bury.
"I need to be focused," he told her, sounding a bit colder than usual. Then he glanced at his satchel on the desk, alerting her to its presence. She knew what was inside.
"Calculations?" Skye confirmed.
She had to wonder if they would ever stop hanging between them. He coped with things by embracing numbers, simple safe truths, because humans were too complex, too messy for him to handle.
"Is that a problem?" Lucas asked her now, confronting her. He wouldn't stop working on the portal, and if she wanted to stand in his way… He didn't want to think about it. The last time he'd trusted her with it, she'd ruined everything. If she was going to stand in his way in this, he needed to know.
Skye's answer lingered. Saying 'yes' would've just led to her ruining her day and his. If Lucas had to start all over, she had time. Time to show him he was wrong; that he was opening Pandora's Box and unleashing evil into paradise.
"No," she finally said.
Lucas sighed in relief, not having realized he'd been holding his breath so violently. At least something was easy, something remained that she didn't want to tear apart for now. His gaze fell and he caught a glimpse of her bare legs, remembered what it felt like when she straddled him, the ecstasy that followed.
He stepped away from her side, reaching for his coat and satchel. "I can't work here," he told her, feeling weak already. He needed flee while he still could.
"Because of me?" she teased him, fully aware of her power. She made him weak to the knees, gave him heartache in a way she doubted he'd ever experienced with anyone else (because she sure the hell hadn't).
Still a tinge of hurt remained, a doubt that he didn't want to work near her, because he feared she would compromise him again. She feared he wasn't ready to trust her again, and sought protective measures to ensure she wouldn't be able to disrupt him.
"Because of the effect you have on me," Lucas corrected, sensing the trust issue looming beneath her charming behavior.
She smirked at his response, tying her hands around her, just below her breasts. The fabric of the shirt tensed, it outlined her shapes clearer now. And he could see how she'd left the top buttons of his shirt open, how they teased him with a glimpse of the valley between her breasts.
"I won't be here, I promise," she tried to convince him, elated with the thought she could just swoop in and have him beseech to her for mercy.
Lucas gave her a long appreciating glance. "No," he said, "It's me I'm worried about." Because knowing she was near meant he would find excuses to see her, to touch her. And before he'd know it, he would just ignore his work and be bound to her like his heart already was.
"I'm going to one of my safe places," Lucas announced, trying to hold onto his dignity, his confidence.
"Safe from temptation," she concluded with disappointment.
"Something like that," he smirked. His trademark grin was beautiful; she loved seeing him like that. Like this he was free from responsibilities, worries, and dark thoughts. He looked like anyone other young man in lust, in love.
"Mira will know where I am," Lucas then brought her back to the moment, where he was leaving and she was staying behind.
Skye grit her teeth with suspicion. "Will she tell me if I ask her?" Because in her opinion Mira probably thought this was good. She'd jump at the chance of playing gate keeper to their relationship. Not that Skye could blame her. From Mira's point of view she'd had a devastating effect on Lucas.
"She won't cross me," Lucas promised. Of course Mira probably would guard this secret as long as possible, since it gave her leverage over Skye. He didn't think it was all bad either. His little siren needed a chaperone if Lucas was going to have any time or stamina for anything else.
And with that Skye just knew it. "She's not going to tell me, is she?" she worded her suspicion; succumbing to the knowledge that Lucas probably thought it was best too. Bastard.
Lucas leaned in over her, took hold of her face and kissed her. It was soft, tentative. Skye longed to make into something magnetic, something devastating. She held off though, as he was already pulling back by the time she was about to push against him.
"I'll be back in the evening." With a glance of recognition to ensure she'd accepted their situation, he withdrew and headed out. Skye was left standing there, wrapped in his shirt.
TBC
Fandom: Terra Nova
Ship: Skye/Lucas
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: bad language, sexual situations, AU
Chapter: 13/?
Summary: Pre-Series. AU story. Skye meets a strange man at Snakehead Falls and ends up falling in love. But can happiness built on anonymity last, when the world around them is on fire?
Author's Note: I had a small emotional breakdown after writing the first porpotion of this chapter. These two just... kill me.
Things Lost in the Fire
13. Fuel for the Fire
"Can't we just skip the apologies and admit we both did wrong? Can't we just get to the part where you kiss me when you want to and don't hold back?"
She'd worded it better in her head; in the countless speeches she'd made wordlessly her voice hadn't shivered, her hands hadn't kept him in place. She had sounded strong and loving, not like someone who couldn't even keep herself from falling apart. There wasn't quite any reason that justified her request, and she knew those phases were important for the bigger picture. Still she needed him more than forced assurances, especially since the scale was pretty much balanced according to her calculations: Equally guilty, equally hurting, and equally yearning.
Lucas hadn't expected something like this from her, this banged girl who was so obviously mad at him, at his father, at all of them. He knew she was not alright with the lies, with the actions they'd taken to get here, just as he wasn't. That day they'd met had been perfect, nothing had weighted them down. Whereas reality was harsh, it gave them no shelter, no room to breathe between hits.
Actions had consequences, betrayal needed to be punished - or so his mind told him. He tried to find that man inside him, who'd been so entangled with her that he didn't care who she was or what she stood for. All he could find was the man, who held onto petty disputes, took any excuse to blow off some steam, and hid the painful things behind a façade.
He wanted to hate her, but couldn't - not when she was everything he hadn't known he needed. Lucas tried to brush the shame and agony aside for her, as he knew he was the reason she'd been banished from her home, from her family. She didn't deserve misery with him, when she'd followed the wrong path just to catch up with him.
His hands rose to her hands, which were still clasping the front of his shirt and holding him in place. He cleared his mind from the negative and focused on her fragile expression, seeing so clearly how she held onto hope. He removed her hands gently, brushing his fingers over her skin, that simple touch causing her grip to relent and her hands to fall over his chest.
She nibbled her lower lip nervously, feeling her failure. She lowered her gaze, not quite able to keep back her disappointment. Then she realized he was pushing closer to her, her hands were folding more and more, inch by inch. Looking up again wary and fearful, she recognized his mood in an instant. He tried to push back his anger, yet it remained clear in his intense eyes, that lustful glare.
"Is that all you want?" he growled smoothly, his hands finding their way around her, quickly caging her in his embrace. "Intimacy but not openness?"
Oh, she could tell she'd hit him hard, harder than she'd even expected. Their little scene by the waterfront, all that coldness, the cruel way he'd introduced her to the reality of being nothing but a ploy to Taylor, it had just been foreplay, a little teaser of his resentment. Something foreign moved inside her as she watched him slowly bring her closer, lips approaching hers. His movement was predatory: both playful and a little dangerous.
And she liked this glimpse, this darkness. Suddenly she wasn't afraid of being hurt anymore.
"This is just the way I want it," she told him, thinking that tenderness would've been the lie. She would rather embrace this dispute, this flicker of honesty. Skye pushed her lips against his before he could answer, claiming the rest of his sanity. It plunged them both into madness.
Everything hurt and felt ecstatic at the same time. His grip was too tight when he framed her face and her nails prickled his chest through the fabric once she grasped him again. He kissed her forcefully, finding pleasure in her flinching, each muffled wince. He knew he shouldn't have; he'd yearned to be a stronger man, a better man for her, but he really wasn't.
Her hands snaked up his neck, fingers curling violently into his hair. The six months she'd dreamed of being in his arms again were erased, tender dreams forgotten and replaced by this brutal encounter. It didn't take him long to feel the restraint of his pants against his erection; it pressed against her stomach, made her want to inhale, retreat.
"I should've come for you earlier," he confessed when her lips began trailing his jawbone, finding that lovely spot between his jaw and shoulder where his scars were located.
"Not a word," she hissed, unwilling to hear it now. This wasn't about that, it wasn't about the painful reconciliation they'd have to go through. It was about seeing who they really were, how far they were really willing to go.
Lucas couldn't help grunting as her body squirmed against him, each touch against his arousal like adding fuel to the fire. He glanced down at her, practically seeing inside her shirt as she was kissing his neck, her tongue licking his skin, the sweat. He couldn't quite help feeling that she'd lured him into a trap, that whatever issues they had between them were small in comparison to the fear he'd never get to feel this way with her again. His neck tensed, rippling pain across his body when she bit him.
He tore her away from him with a jerk after landing his steady hands on her shoulders. His eyes were upon her, humiliation and exhilaration pushing him to action. He didn't know how she did it, but her actions were pushing him towards freefall, towards forgetting, and damn he wanted to tell her off, ask her to stop and be her sweet self again. She responded to his stare, his forceful gesture, by lifting her chin defiantly.
"Clothes," she demanded, her ragged breath nearly stealing her voice. And despite his attempts to gain control - because he never lost control even when he lost his temper - her will was stronger than his.
First only one hand retreated, then the other, and soon he was removing his clothes. Skye followed suit, leaned over to pull off her boots, threw away her shirt, wriggled out of her pants. Sweat pearled on her, especially gathered over her bosom. She stood up again, pushed her wayward hair off her face. She was wearing nothing but her underwear at that point, and she noticed he was already fully naked.
He didn't ask her anything else after that - the point of no return had passed, and he'd given up.
Lucas took hold of her hips, pushing against her to her bewilderment. He unclasped her bra with just one hand, kissing the edge of her jaw as he did it. His hand found its way to her shoulder, pushing down the shoulder strap there, and then moving to the other side. The bra fell off; he pushed them towards the bed for a few steps, leaving her almost fumbling in the dim light as she wasn't familiar with the layout of his hut.
His forehead was throbbing, everything focused on the bruise there. It was darker now, less sensitive, but very much sore nevertheless. She was shining in his arms, dizzy from his affection, satisfied with the way he tried to take charge. A bittersweet smile on her lips, eyes drowning in his. She held onto his upper arms, body pressed against his, while he hesitated, not knowing the steps to this dance.
"Bed," she told him softly but defiantly, and he tossed her down, the soft surface breaking her abrupt fall. She pulled away her remaining underwear while he watched, having forgotten how beautiful she looked even she was covered in bruises and scars.
This was different from her dreams, her fantasies. He'd always been kind to her, until she'd realized it was a side he only showed her. Watching him trade with his father, showing a different face altogether, she'd understood what a small flame that side of him was, a flicker in the dark.
He kneeled on the edge of the bed, creeping over her on his knees and hands. She held her breath, watched him advanced until he was upon her, and she brought her hands to his cheeks. The soft fabric of her bandages rubbed his face, made him aware of her wounded wrists again. He'd neatly ignored the bandage on her back as well, a painful reminder of how cruel he could be when he wanted. He didn't want her kindness, so he pulled his face back, out of her reach. As she frowned, he smirked and leaned in to kiss the valley between her breasts.
Then he pulled her hands together, clasping them over her head. She didn't resist, just accepted everything, anticipation all over her face. "C'mon," she whispered her brave invitation, and he followed through, entering her.
It was torture, how he moved inside her: slow, sweet torture. He tried to hold her hands still as gently as possible despite the way her body rocked beneath him, yet found it impossible. So his hand slid onto one hand, fingers twining with hers, one hand released from his grip. She didn't take it away though, no, she slid it under the hand he held, the pressure holding it still.
He didn't caress her, he didn't whisper promises in her ear or act particularly lovingly. She didn't mind, her eyes fluttered open and closed, the maddening motion felt heavenly. He leaned against his hand, also putting small weight on the hand that had captured hers. Lucas watched her intently, observing her reactions, how her eyebrows knit together with ecstasy. She struggled, began to push into his thrusts, eyes rolling and closing. She stared at the ceiling when they were open.
Everything was aflame; heat burned her skin, sweat dribbling from his body to hers. They were silent this time, each moan and grunt was muffled, contained. Even if this was home, their actions weren't meant for anyone else's ears. She shifted her pelvis, the new angle intensifying the pleasure. He felt her crush his hand as she came undone, eyes flying open, drilling into him. And for a moment there, she had her oblivion.
He quickened his movement once he recognized her surrender, reaching his peak a little while later. Lassitude entered his body, relaxed his muscles, demanding him to rest. He pulled away, standing up to blow out the light in the lantern. The last thing he saw though was her wiping away tears from her cheeks as discreetly as possible. Lucas blew the fire out and returned to the bed, this time lying by her side, spooning her as she turned away from him.
Skye had pulled the blanket on her, buried herself in its softness and warmth. Her wrists were aching now, though they hadn't while they'd made love. Her cheeks were still wet, even if had been just a few lousy tears (over being so overwhelmed by the experience). Everything about her felt new, different. She didn't know if the change was good or bad, but she embraced it anyway.
He adjusted himself, pulling her into his arms before she noticed. Skye turned just a bit, suddenly finding her ear on his chest, listening to his raging heartbeat. Lucas pressed his lips on her temple, one arm beneath her.
"I should've come for you earlier," he repeated his earlier words she'd cut off. "I should've stopped you before you left me," he confessed, bringing tears back into her eyes. "I never thought you'd leave me."
"I'm here now, Lucas," Skye said, a tinge of sadness in her voice.
"Don't betray me again," he pleaded rather than told her, which in itself reminded her of the reasons she was in love with him.
"I won't," she promised, hoping he wouldn't put her in a situation where she had to choose again.
She drifted to sleep soon after, but Lucas lay awake for awhile, holding onto her under the foolish fear that she might disappear again if he closed his eyes.
The morning breeze pushed against the tense canvas of their hut. It was gentle, warm and inviting. Lucas' eyes struggled to open despite the bliss that overwhelmed his senses. They had drifted during the night, shifted countless times, yet remained entangled despite it. He was still spooning her but Skye was almost cradled to a ball with Lucas and the blanket protecting her from outside threats.
He smiled against her, taking his time to recover from sleep. It felt so good to be like this. Yet the morning sun crept into the hut between the cracks, it alerted him to the dawn of a new day. He could even make out distinct noises in the distance, signs that the camp was beginning to wake.
Lucas withdrew his hand from her waist carefully, pulling away in a manner that would disturb her sleep the least. She pretended to be tough, to be alright, yet he knew better. She needed some sleep, some time to mend her bruises, both emotional and physical. If he could fool her into sleeping just a little bit longer, she'd have that serenity.
He dressed himself lazily, eyes wandering over to her during the small breaks between different garments. Clad in pants and a sleeveless shirt he searched for his papers, piled them and bound with a piece of string before he stuffed them inside his satchel. Skye stirred at this point, her brain slowly coming to terms with the fact that she was alone. Her hand reached from him blindly, catching his attention right away. Lucas walked up to the bed and kneeled, taking her hand in his.
"Morning Bucket," he whispered, attempting to pacify her dreamy distress.
Her eyes were open in an instant and she tried to move, stung by the resistance of her weary muscles. Skye gave up almost immediately, settling to turn her face to Lucas. "Everything hurts," she whined, although her voice had playfulness in it. A moment later he caught her smiling a sly smile, as she tugged his arm, beckoning him to approach her.
"I didn't mean to hurt you," Lucas apologized self-consciously, ashamed of how roughly he'd treated her.
"Yes you did," she responded. There was no accusation in her words though; she'd invited the heavy handling and enjoyed it. She'd rather he unravel with her like this than through more nefarious means if he was angry.
"And I didn't tell you to stop, did I?" she then questioned, already knowing he couldn't argue with her reasoning.
Skye grabbed the blanket that shielded her nakedness and pulled it away from her whilst slipping her hand away from his. The yank felt uncomfortable for a moment, but it passed. She then started to move her aching body up to a sitting position. Every muscle complained at first, discontent with the labor she was putting them into. Lucas watched her efforts almost frozen, desire bubbling inside him again.
Eventually she made it to the edge of the bed and managed to get on her two feet with Lucas' support. A satisfied expression spread across her face, even the cool air felt better than a moment ago. Then she was suddenly being moved like a mannequin, as Lucas lifted her arms up and pulled a shirt over her head. It was baggy, clearly one of his, but it served its purpose, which was covering her.
Skye shot him with a questioning look as she ran her hands across the fabric, adjusting the shirt to fit her petite form better. She rolled up the sleeves next.
"You were damaging my calm," Lucas explained with a wink.
She frowned at his answer, seduction creeping into her voice, "I am? Do you need to be calm?"
Lucas tensed at bit upon hearing her voice, seeing the way she teased him. It was an instant flashback into last night, the way she'd taken charge and helped him deal with the impulses he'd wanted to bury.
"I need to be focused," he told her, sounding a bit colder than usual. Then he glanced at his satchel on the desk, alerting her to its presence. She knew what was inside.
"Calculations?" Skye confirmed.
She had to wonder if they would ever stop hanging between them. He coped with things by embracing numbers, simple safe truths, because humans were too complex, too messy for him to handle.
"Is that a problem?" Lucas asked her now, confronting her. He wouldn't stop working on the portal, and if she wanted to stand in his way… He didn't want to think about it. The last time he'd trusted her with it, she'd ruined everything. If she was going to stand in his way in this, he needed to know.
Skye's answer lingered. Saying 'yes' would've just led to her ruining her day and his. If Lucas had to start all over, she had time. Time to show him he was wrong; that he was opening Pandora's Box and unleashing evil into paradise.
"No," she finally said.
Lucas sighed in relief, not having realized he'd been holding his breath so violently. At least something was easy, something remained that she didn't want to tear apart for now. His gaze fell and he caught a glimpse of her bare legs, remembered what it felt like when she straddled him, the ecstasy that followed.
He stepped away from her side, reaching for his coat and satchel. "I can't work here," he told her, feeling weak already. He needed flee while he still could.
"Because of me?" she teased him, fully aware of her power. She made him weak to the knees, gave him heartache in a way she doubted he'd ever experienced with anyone else (because she sure the hell hadn't).
Still a tinge of hurt remained, a doubt that he didn't want to work near her, because he feared she would compromise him again. She feared he wasn't ready to trust her again, and sought protective measures to ensure she wouldn't be able to disrupt him.
"Because of the effect you have on me," Lucas corrected, sensing the trust issue looming beneath her charming behavior.
She smirked at his response, tying her hands around her, just below her breasts. The fabric of the shirt tensed, it outlined her shapes clearer now. And he could see how she'd left the top buttons of his shirt open, how they teased him with a glimpse of the valley between her breasts.
"I won't be here, I promise," she tried to convince him, elated with the thought she could just swoop in and have him beseech to her for mercy.
Lucas gave her a long appreciating glance. "No," he said, "It's me I'm worried about." Because knowing she was near meant he would find excuses to see her, to touch her. And before he'd know it, he would just ignore his work and be bound to her like his heart already was.
"I'm going to one of my safe places," Lucas announced, trying to hold onto his dignity, his confidence.
"Safe from temptation," she concluded with disappointment.
"Something like that," he smirked. His trademark grin was beautiful; she loved seeing him like that. Like this he was free from responsibilities, worries, and dark thoughts. He looked like anyone other young man in lust, in love.
"Mira will know where I am," Lucas then brought her back to the moment, where he was leaving and she was staying behind.
Skye grit her teeth with suspicion. "Will she tell me if I ask her?" Because in her opinion Mira probably thought this was good. She'd jump at the chance of playing gate keeper to their relationship. Not that Skye could blame her. From Mira's point of view she'd had a devastating effect on Lucas.
"She won't cross me," Lucas promised. Of course Mira probably would guard this secret as long as possible, since it gave her leverage over Skye. He didn't think it was all bad either. His little siren needed a chaperone if Lucas was going to have any time or stamina for anything else.
And with that Skye just knew it. "She's not going to tell me, is she?" she worded her suspicion; succumbing to the knowledge that Lucas probably thought it was best too. Bastard.
Lucas leaned in over her, took hold of her face and kissed her. It was soft, tentative. Skye longed to make into something magnetic, something devastating. She held off though, as he was already pulling back by the time she was about to push against him.
"I'll be back in the evening." With a glance of recognition to ensure she'd accepted their situation, he withdrew and headed out. Skye was left standing there, wrapped in his shirt.
TBC