The Lovers in the Wood
In the woods, a witch with the bluest of blood looked up at the stars, her long white hair wrapped around her like a blanket. Her grandmother had told her not to go into the village, that the mortals would capture her and do horrific things with her. But the witch was still a young witchling, and she was oh so very lonely. So when her grandmother wasn't looking she went into the village and saw the things that mortals did. She saw the joy that came from drunkness; the joy that came from a terribly told joke; the joy that came from lips touching so tenderly... but for the witch, who had grown up in a place that lacked such joy, she longed for it. She longed for it so badly that she often thought that her longing would consume her.
When the witch returned to her grandmother later that day, she was punished for disobeying her orders. Fifteen lashes she was given. Her young flesh dripping blue blood onto the stones beneath her. The little witchling was told to stay in the woods and not come back until she had healed. So now here she was.
In the woods, a witch with the bluest of blood looked up at the stars, her long white hair wrapped around her like a blanket. And while she looked up, the little witchling made a wish. She wished to the stars that someday she wouldn't be so lonely. That the hollowness she felt would be healed and that she could feel the joy the mortals felt. But the witch didn't live in a fairytale, and she knew that for her there will always be loneliness.
Several decades later, a prince with the bluest of eyes was born. A few years after that, he too entered the woods.
In the woods, a prince with the bluest of eyes looked up at the stars, his curly black hair falling over his brow and tickling his ears. And while he looked up, the little princeling made a wish. He wished to the stars that someday he wouldn't be so lonely. That the hollowness he felt would be healed and that he could feel the joy the princes in fairy tales often felt. But the prince didn't live in a fairytale, and he knew that for him there will always be loneliness.
Manon Blackbeak was lying on her back looking at the stars, contemplating how she would win over the Crochan witches, her witches. She turned to her side. Across from her, Dorian Havilliard was lying on his side, deep asleep. Manon watched him. She watched how peaceful he looked; how young. Manon never had let a man atop her, that was until Dorian Havilliard entered her cabin room that night and used her body for release. She looked at him and wondered why she had let him. Wondered when they will use each other's bodies for release again. Manon sighed. She didn't understand. She didn't understand why she found him beautiful. He was a man; she had been raised to hate men.
She was still gazing at him when all of a sudden his face contorted. He looked as if he was in pain. As if he was having a nightmare. He shifted to his back. His eyes finally opening. He was panting, the sides of his face slightly damp. He ran his hand through his blue-black hair. He turned to his side and was startled to find Manon staring at him. Her gold eyes meeting his sapphire ones. Manon held his gaze as he took a deep breath.
She watched as Dorian sat up slowly, trying not to disturb Lorcan. He ran his hand through his hair one last time and quietly stood up and headed for the woods.
Manon hadn't spoken to Dorian since giving him the key. She wouldn't even glance his way, scared that the thirteen would notice and start asking questions. She glanced at the thirteen beside her. All fast asleep. Her second laying close to her. Abraxos asleep far away. Manon quietly stood up and made her footsteps light as she headed for the woods.
She found Dorian, sitting on the cold grass, leaning his back on a tree, knees to his chest, eyes closed. She didn't know why she followed, why she thought he would even want her there. She surveyed him. His face no longer peaceful. A broken king. She took a step forward and her foot snapped a small branch in half. Dorian's eyes snapped open.
He looked at Manon. Her hair shimmering from the light of the moon.
Manon sat on her knees in front of him. She looked at that beautiful pained faced and leaned forward. Grazing his lips with her mouth. Dorian let out a breath, hands still pinned to the ground. She took a finger and slid it down Dorian's inner thigh. Dorian let out a small breath, yet his eyes still held that pain. Dorian looked away from Manon. Focusing on the riverbank across from them.
Manon has never touched a man between his legs, and never desired to do so. But after what she and Dorian had done in the cabin, she found herself growing more and more curious. She tried to control her shaking hands as she unbuttoned Dorian's pants. She didn't allow herself to think about what she was about to do next, she could feel that shame later.
She released the last button and Dorian's length sprang free. She didn't bother taking his pants off, too scared that he would push her away for even wanting to do such an act. She gripped her hand around him and ran her thumb over the head of him, fascinated by the thing that made him a man. It was warm and throbbing.
She moved her hand up and down, feeling it get harder with each stroke. Manon wasn't sure if she was doing it right since Dorian hadn't made a sound. She glanced up to see if he even had an expression. But he wouldn't look at her. So with her free hand, Manon gently gripped his chin. He turned away from the riverbank and finally looked at her. The skin between his brows slightly pinched together. She was scared of what she was thinking of doing next. She was scared of hurting him. Scared of him pushing away. Scared of him being scared of her. But Manon held his gaze as he gave her a slight smile. A smile that said he understood that she has never done this before. A smile that said he wasn't after her pleasuring him, instead letting her know it was ok to explore with him, to see if she even liked this kind of act.
Manon bent her head. She gently flicked her tongue against the head of him, tasting him. It tasted strange. Not bad, but not good either. She felt Dorian let out a chuckle above her, no doubt looking at the strange face she must be making. She flicked her tongue again and Dorian let out a quiet groan. She took a glance at his face. He was watching her, lips slightly parted. His groan was so utterly male, yet so quiet, it soothed her nerves.
She took a deep breath and parted her lips and pressed a light kiss to his head. Dorian groaned again. She took one last glance at Dorian's face and then put the head of him into her mouth, slowly getting used to his taste. She glanced up to see him biting his lip, trying to contain his moans, hands fisted in the grass. Manon was no longer filled with nerves or worry as she heard Dorian's moans growing louder above her. She was pulling her head up when she accidentally got too carried away and sucked.
Above her, Dorian let out a loud breathless gasp. She pulled her mouth away quickly. Scared that she hurt him. But Dorian's face held no pain, but rather pleasure. She once saw a woman in a dark alley with her head bent between a man's legs. His hands fisted in her hair as she moved. So Manon met Dorian's sapphire eyes and lifted his fisted hands from the grass. She moved his hands to her moon-white hair. He gently ran his fingers through it as she bent once again. This time when she sucked, Dorian fisted his hands through her hair, fingers gripping her hair roughly.
Manon didn't object and hearing him moan above her caused heat to pool between her legs. She has never felt so aroused.
Dorian tried to pry her head away before release found him, but she quickly swatted his hand away. He let out a deep groan and hit the back of his head on the tree as release found him.
Manon kept her mouth on him as a warm white substance filled her mouth. When she, at last, raised her head, she met Dorian's eyes and swallowed.
Dorian held her gaze as she straddled his lap. Legs wrapped around him. He interlaced their fingers together as their foreheads met. Lifted her tunic and caressed her breast with his phantom hands, Manon gripping their interlaced fingers tighter.
Dorian replaced his hands with his phantom ones and pinned her hands above each side of his head, to the trunk of the tree. Causing her to hover slightly above him. Causing her breast to be leveled with his face.
With his hand made of flesh, Dorian gripped a breast, his other hand moving to her back, pushing her towards him. Dorian held her gaze as he squeezed one breast and blew on the other. His warm breath making her nipples peak. He flicked his tongue against it.
Manon rested her forehead on the top of his head. So filled with desire and need. She needed him. She needed to lose herself in him. She needed to forget the war that was ahead, forget her role in it. Her hands were still pinned to the tree when Dorian parted his lips and sucked her nipple into his mouth, his other hand still squeezing her breast. Manon let out a quiet breath above him.
Dorian's phantom hands released Manon's hands and moved them to his thick hair. No longer hovering above him, Dorian moved his hand to the back of her neck and pulled her lips towards his.
Manon parted her lips to give Dorian access to her mouth. He groaned when he tasted himself, and met her tongue with his. Dorian teased her, slowly moving his tongue against hers. His mouth pulled back slowly.
She stood up, legs between Dorian's, the buckle of her pants hovering above his head. Dorian was still sitting on the ground as his phantom hands reached out to unbuckle her pants, slowly sliding them down. When Manon was finally free of them, she stood before Dorian, utterly bare.
Manon studied Dorian's face. He was surveying her. Every inch of her. His features ravenous, though she could his eyes still held a tint of sadness.
Manon put her legs on either side of him and sat, straddling him, making her soaked center graze Dorian's length. He was still fully clothed, save for that opening that let him hang free.
Dorian intertwined one hand together with hers and the other slid down her bent thigh, fingers splayed against her flat tummy, his thumb circling her bundle of nerves. Manon gripped his ebony hair with her hands and closed her eyes, head back. Manon needed him to stop teasing her. Manon needed him in her.
He removed his fingers from her center and intertwined it with her other hand. Manon held his gaze as she lowered her throbbing center on his hard member, squeezing his fingers that were still intertwined with hers. They both moaned; lips grazing each other.
She stilled when she couldn't take his length any deeper. Neither moved, both panting, lips only a breath away, sapphire eyes meeting her golden ones.
"Hello, witchling," Dorian panted quietly.
"Hello, princeling," Manon quietly murmured back.
The first words they spoken to each other in days.
Dorian held her gaze as she pulled herself up. She let out a quiet breath on Dorian's lips as she lowered herself. Moving up and down at a slow pace. Wanting this moment with him to last as long as possible. Letting his body extinguish her loneliness.
Dorian thrust his hips up and Manon arched against him. He unlocked their fingers and moved his hands to her behind, squeezing gently. Manon moaned. She grabbed at his white shirt, clenching it with her fingers as she continued to move up and down.
Manon stilled. Looking at Dorian. Looking at his beautiful face, so thoroughly aroused, she couldn't help the whimper that escaped her lips. Dorian, with his hands still gripping her behind, pulled her hips up. Lowered her. He groaned as he lifted Manon up and down, hard and fast. He held her gaze until Manon couldn't take it anymore, she closed her eyes shut and came.
Dorian moved her tenderly against him. Letting her come down from her high. Her forehead met his as she opened her eyes. He looked at her and gave her a boyish grin. He was still inside her, still hard. Manon knew he wasn't done with her yet. She traced her thumb against his lower lip. He took it into his mouth and sucked, flicking at her thumb.
"Did it take the edge off?" Manon quietly chuckled, remembering their last encounter.
"Maybe," Dorian smirked.
Manon felt his member throbbing, still inside her. "Liar," she purred.
Manon stood up, groaning from the loss of his length. She walked until she was a couple of feet away from Dorian and laid on the smooth grass.
She parted her legs, her fingers gripping the grass. She looked to where Dorian was still seated. Slowly he got up but stayed leaning against the tree.
Manon met his eyes, and Dorian slowly lifted his shirt. She took in his toned yet lean form. Dorian sensing her looking at him, caressed the scar on her stomach with a phantom finger, making lazy circles, then pulled away. She felt his phantom hands caress her knees. Felt his fingers caress her inner thighs. Her breath hitched as his hands slowly spread her legs wide apart. She sank her head into the grass, closing her eyes as Dorian played with his fingers, played against her drenched opening. Manon felt a hand pin her waist.
At last, Dorian entered a finger.
She moaned so loudly, that a small part of her was scared the members of their group had heard. But Dorian's finger was still moving inside of her, and she quickly lost all sense of worry. He added two more fingers and Manon nearly cried from pleasure. He curled his fingers and hit just the right spot that made her arch. Manon was panting so fast, her hair slightly damp. She opened her eyes to look at Dorian. She let out a loud whimper when she saw that Dorian's hand was gripping his shaft, moving up and down, thumb occasionally rubbing its head.
His phantom thumb rubbed her clit in slow circles, making her center leak even more. His thumb caressing her so gently and slowly. Dorian's thumb pressed down on a particular spot and she came, pulling the grass that she had been gripping.
She was panting much too loudly when Dorian finally sauntered towards her. Moving with feline grace. He bent on his knees between Manon's legs. He was still wearing his pants, and he had no intention of taking them off. He gave her a smug smile. Manon glared at him.
He moved his body down until his mouth was hovering above her core. He gently pushed her legs farther apart and lowered his mouth. He gave her a slow long lick.
"Dorian," Manon moaned.
He licked again...and again...and again. He stopped his licking to move his mouth to her clit, he sucked the sensitive nub and pulled gently. Manon moved her hands to pull his head away. She was so sensitive, so aroused, and she really wanted to finish with him inside her.
"Stop," she quietly murmured, out of breath.
Dorian pulled his mouth away and sat up on his knees. His beautiful face turning into worry."What's wrong?" he asked quietly.
Manon didn't answer. Instead, she lifted her body and met her mouth with his, moving her hands to his neck. Eventually, the kiss became sloppy and Manon pulled away.
Manon whispered, "Make me beg."
"What was that?" Dorian asked breathlessly.
Manon took a deep breath, "Make me beg."
Dorian lifted her chin gently. Trying to read her face. She turned her head away and kneeled on her knees. Bending forward, her forehead touching the cold ground. Hands gripping the grass beneath her.
"Please," she whispered into the ground."Please."
Dorian stilled for a long while. He eventually moved forward. He lifted her hips up and she arched her back. Ready for him to enter her.
Dorian ran a finger down her core. He trailed his finger up and circled around her hole. Manon moaned. His finger was circling a spot Manon didn't even know could feel pleasure.
He moved his finger down, towards her soaking core, ready to thrust back in. Dorian took a deep breath and slowly nudged his head against her center.
"No," Manon said roughly.
Dorian quickly pulled away.
"No, wait," she quickly breathed. She let out a quiet and heavy breath,"Not...there."
He surveyed her, no doubt worried about hurting her. He knew what she meant by there. Knew she wanted him in the one place she has never let any man enter.
"Please," she begged quietly. "Please."
"Please," she quietly pleaded again.
He let out a low and defeated breath. He circled her hole again. Used her wet center to sooth the opening. Once it was damp, Dorian slowly nudged his finger in. Slowly stretching her. Preparing her.
He gripped himself and gently nudged against the opening. Dorian slowly entered her. Whimpered when he was all the way inside.
Manon closed her eyes tightly, it hurt, but she wanted this so badly. Wanted to try it. Wanted him to be the one who did it.
Dorian didn't move, letting her adjust. He slowly pulled out, groaning at how tight she felt around him. She gritted her teeth, still in pain. He entered her again with one slow stroke and then pulled out, so so so slowly. He put his hands on her waist and pushed into her. Pulled out slowly.
Dorian kept this rhythm, watching Manon's hand grip the grass tighter and tighter with each thrust he made, letting her get used to the foreign intrusion.
Manon moaned in pleasure.
He grunted as he started to move faster and faster, hands gripping Manon's waist, moving her with him. And when he started slamming into her, Manon moaned, over and over. When he knew she was close to release, he slowed down. Resuming his slow thrusting once again.
Manon braced her arms on the grass, slightly looking up at him.
"Dorian, please," she breathed.
He shook his head.
Manon lowered her head down once again. Dorian pulled out and thrusted back in.
He stilled inside her.
Manon tried to move, but with his hands on her waist and his phantoms hands emerging to hold her shoulders down, she couldn't.
"Please," she begged.
"Please, what?" He teased, his breath hot.
"Please, Dorian," she begged. "Please."
Dorian pulled out slowly."Like that Manon?"
"No," she grunted.
He pushed in, hard.
"Like how, Manon?" he panted, barely holding on himself.
"Fast," she begged.
Dorian began to thrust quickly."Like that?" Dorian said roughly.
She nodded. "Harder," she moaned.
One of Dorian's phantom hands moved from her shoulder to her hair. It twisted a handful and pulled gently. Manon's head slightly tilting up. He gave her one hard thrust and tugged on her hair. Dorian spread her legs wider with his and continued to move.
Manon braced herself on her arms, tilting her head to look at him. He gave her a half smile, trying to smooth out his agonized face. She was glad she wasn't the only one coming undone.
She looked to where they merged...over and over again.
The sight was so raw, that she cried out his name and came.
Dorian thrusted into her two more times and stilled deep inside of her. He bit his lip to contain his roar as he came. Rested his head on her drenched sweaty back, kissed it and gently pulled out of her.
Manon rolled onto her back, body still trembling. She was still panting when Dorian buttoned his pants back up and leaned forward to press a tender kiss to her temple. He brought his shirt over with his phantom hands. He gently turned her over, wetting his shirt with his tongue. He cleaned her...gently rubbing the blood away. He tossed it to the side.
He laid on his side and she laid on hers, facing him.
He put a hand over his face and let out a low sleepy grunt. His face damp, pink coloring his pale chest.
Dorian took her hand and gently brought it to his lips, giving her a tender kiss.
Manon smiled at him. Not even bothering to put her clothes on. She watched him; watched him until he finally closed his eyes, and slowly fell asleep. She looked at him longer, realizing this was her only chance to survey him without getting mocked.
Her own eyes got heavy. She closed them, letting the darkness swallow her up.
Dorian was asleep on his stomach when he felt warm fingers run up and down his spine. He opened his eyes, eyes slightly blurred, as golden ones met his.
He looked at Manon, whose moon-white hair was wild from the night before. He took a glance at the sky, noting that it was still too early for the others to be awake. He returned his gaze to Manon and studied her. She was still naked, that wild hair covering her breast, so beautiful that it always managed to stop him in his tracks.
Dorian took a deep breath and whispered, "Good Morning, witchling."
Manon gave him a gentle smile, "Good Morning, princeling."
Dorian let out a chuckle.
Manon brushed a finger down his nose, his lips, across his brows.
Dorian watched her. Watched as her fingers traced his face.
He contemplated what they did last night. Wishing he hadn't been so rough. Though she was built to kill a man with her bare teeth, Dorian couldn't help but think of her as fragile. Her eyes always gazing at him with curiosity; her hands always gentle with him. Her heart vulnerable to everything she must be feeling.
Dorian sat up. His chest and face dirty from laying on the ground. Dorian looked at Manon, who was still sprawling on her back. He watched as her fingers gently grazed a flower beside her.
"Why did you-why did you want me to do that last night?"
Manon didn't reply.
Dorian noticed her face starting to go dark, so he said, "Did it take the edge off?"
She smiled at him, "No. Not even close."
He smiled at that and watched as she once again spread her legs. Not that Dorian didn't want to, but he wanted more than just her body. Gods, they haven't even had a proper conversation yet.
Dorian looked up at the sky, contemplating what to ask next.
"No," Manon said quietly.
"I don't want to talk." She grabbed his hand and moved it to her core. Moved his other hand to her behind. Winced at the contact, sore and sensitive from the night before.
Dorian, noticing her pained face, pulled his hand back quickly. He couldn't do it. Wouldn't do it. He shouldn't have even done it last night. What she asked for wasn't release or need. She wanted him to be rough in ways he didn't want to even imagine. Wanted him to hurt her. Wanted him to cause her pain, thinking she deserved it. He gently placed his hands on either side of her face."You deserve better, Manon."
A tear slide down her soft cheek. Dorian wiped it away with his thumb.
Manon sat up and walked to the river across from them. She let the water pool around her ankles, her hands reaching down to cup water to pour over her core, her behind.
Dorian quietly followed her and did the same.
In the end, Dorian left first.
As he walked closer to the group, he realized that he was as equally as lost as Manon. Realized what last night meant to her. Realized that she trusted him enough to let him do that to her. Realized that he felt more than just lust for her; realized that one day he might open his heart enough to...to...
He shook his head and found a spot near Lorcan. He was about to close his eyes when he noticed someone staring at him. Across from him, Manon's second glared at him.
He should have known that her second would notice her absence. Manon's second was still glaring at him when Manon finally arrived. She froze upon noticing that her second was awake.
Dorian watched as she found a spot, far from her second. Manon shot him a look. Pleading for him to go to sleep.
He watched as her second shifted her gaze to Manon's. Manon's eyes were closed, most likely faking sleep. Her second's glare softened and when she turned her focus back to Dorian... she gave him a slight nod. She turned to her side as she closed her eyes.
Dorian was still staring at Manon.
He looked at that beautiful face, no sign of pain or sadness.
His eyes slowly closed and the darkness welcomed him.