Somnambulist

By: Loki

-part four-


"Aki, no," she gasped, not able to catch her breath. But he unwound one hand from her, stroking lovingly down her wet locks.

"Shh," he whispered in her ear, "It's okay."

"No..." She tried, she really tried to make herself speak beyond that one word, but there were too many thoughts in her head, suddenly happening all at once.

What is he doing?

He's touching me!

He's naked!

Brother!

I'm naked!

I'm scared!

We had sex!

It burns...

He's hard!

I love Aki!

Why?

So afraid!

Wake up!

I'm awake!

Need...

Touch me!

Get away from me!

"AKI!" She was already wet from her own touches, so his fingers met with no resistance as they slid inside her. He pushed two in as deep as they would go, then went still.

"Shh," he repeated, quieter, huskier. His other arm steadying her against him, supporting her as her knees suddenly went limp. It wrapped tighter around her, right under the swell of her breasts, and he pulled back firmly, fitting his every hill and valley to her corresponding curve. He nestled into the dip of her back, velvet-hard and seeming so much warmer than the rest of him.

His hair was rapidly soaking up the water, dripping into his eyes and tickling at her temple. He turned his head against her face and lazily licked a few drops from her cheek. She shuddered, fluttering helplessly around his buried fingers. Feather kisses on her shoulder, against her throat, then he drug his tongue up to flick it slowly across her mouth in such a way that it shoved her unexpectedly into another sensory memory.

Strong fingers pressed her trembling thighs apart, and she lifted a strangely heavy head, her face flushed and contorted into an expression of shock and pleasure. Looking down the line of her wriggling body, all she could see was long, pale arms wrapped around her bent legs, and a gold head buried between them.

He lifted up then, as if sensing her looking at him, and it was such a predatorial look, his bangs falling wildly into his face, his lavender eyes rolled up to show white. The tip of his tongue still touching her, as if he was some dangerous jungle cat lapping from hidden waters.

Still holding her heavy-lidded gaze, he slowly slid his tongue down, pushing it into her dilating opening and sucking as deeply as he could.

She cried out, her hands snapping up and latching onto his hair, pulling on it sharply.

She was panting, and his mouth was sealed over hers, the kiss deep and wild, and nothing that could be mistaken for innocent.

She wondered for a confused moment how his tongue could be in two places at once, before she realized that she was no longer caught in the throes of the memory, but truly kissing him. His fingers were slowly moving now, keeping pace with his tongue as it thrust gently into her mouth and rubbed against her own tongue.

His other hand was shifting her again, holding her close as he slid one slippery knee between her legs. His hand rested flat on her stomach for a moment then moved up. He cupped her left breast, kneading it in his palm and squeezing gently.

It felt so good. So good...

His fingers thrust deeper, harder; he rubbed the heel of his palm into her until she couldn't help but cry and gasp his name---laying her right hand flat over the back of his to keep him in place. He quickened his pace at her touch, making a sound deep in his throat and pushing his hips against her again and again.

She didn't know how long he had been touching her, or how long she had been pushing back into him, feeling the slippery-wet lines of his body as he rubbed against her. The water had shifted from hot to warm, but she felt her hair sticking to her face in sweaty strands.

Reaching out and placing her hands flat on the tile, she rolled her hips, meeting his hand in quick, shallow thrusts. Her right breast bounced freely against his arm as he squeezed the left, pinching and pulling the nipple taut between his fingers.

So good, she thought, tears stinging her eyes. So good, don't stop! Yes!

"Please!"

He groaned, nudging her head aside with his chin and latching his lips onto her neck. He sucked at her skin, biting the tender flesh there, then soothed it with gentle licks.

There was a wet slapping sound, of skin hitting skin, of his fingers speeding up into an almost frenzy of movement. He pressed her harder against the wall, his hips pushing tight against hers, and she shifted, arching almost instinctively against him until his lower half was pinning her to the wall, he was now between her legs and squeezing between the slippery tightness of her thighs.

He curled his fingers up inside her without warning, and suddenly she lost all sense of motion, and time. She slammed her hips back against him, and cried out as her whole world seemed to burst into white, and heat. She turned her face into his and licked at his cheek, his jaw, she sank her teeth into his lip, all the while spilling tiny half-wild noises from her throat.

Her hand flew to his hand, his arm, grasping at it. The other slapped against the wall, and then again. Then it shot back and grabbed at him, wrapping tight fingers around his erection and squeezing.

He ripped his mouth free of hers and gasped, jerking in her hold. And then suddenly, something hotter and thicker than the water splattered across her lower back. Once, twice, then a few more drops that trickled down the dip of her spine.

He was panting in her ear, slumped bonelessly against her as they both leaned tiredly against the wall. His fingers were still buried in her, shaking with exertion, and he slowly drew them out, trailing them over her stomach, her heaving breasts. He crossed his arm weakly over her chest and lowered his head to rest on her shoulder. Her eyes were closed, but her mind still provided her with the stirring image of him sucking them clean.

A few moments of rest later, and he gently lifted her up in shaking arms, cradling her to his chest. Carefully he climbed out of the tub, and not even bothering to dry either of them or find clothes, he carried her back into the bedroom. Gathering her to him tightly, he laid them both down on the mussed bed, then pulled the comforter over them.

His hand stroked gently through her hair. He pressed his hot cheek to hers, then kissed away the tears she hadn't realized she had cried.

"Shh, it's okay, Aya. It's okay. I love you...It's okay..."

Aki...

In her sleep, this wasn't wrong. This didn't feel wrong.

Her last thought before she wound her arms around him and slipped under was---

I want to sleep forever.