Darkness. That was what surrounded him. He wasn't always like that. No, that was a lie. He was always like that, but he had been different before they pronounced him as king. He used to be carefree, knowing that his father, Lord of the Darkness and King of the Demons, would take care of anything and everything and he never had to lift a finger. For years he was like that. For years he was always happy. Then, on his eleventh birthday his father died. His mother knew that he wasn’t ready for this, but she didn't care. She was still in rule and she...she well, made him. It was not up to him. It was never up to him. Over the years he learned to accept the fact that one day he would have to really rule the realm, the Darkness itself. On his twentieth birthday, only a few years before he was rightfully to become king, something terrible happened. He had thought he had found love in a girl, a demon of course. She was as beautiful as the darkness and the stars. But, one day while they were dining, a dog took the meat off his plate. Within a matter of moments, the dog was dead. His beloved had made the meal.

That was when he realized that no one could be trusted. No one. He was to be king and everyone wanted something from him. They all wanted power; the power that he had. No one could be trusted, so, he kept himself distant from people, except the ones that he could really trust…which amounted to about three people. He feared that if he one day let someone get close to him they would kill him.

Eventually he realized that he needed someone he could trust; someone that would never hurt him. He couldn’t be constantly paranoid around everyone. That was when he heard about the special market, the one that sold a unique brand of slaves. Slaves that when they were bound to their masters were bound with an eternal bond.

So, he traveled for three days with the guards he thought were the most loyal at present and made his way to the slave market. Arriving there, he got out of his carriage and fixed his satin purple cape before entering the building and taking a seat among the rest. His black hair fell down into his face and with a deep sweeping motion of his hand he brushed it away. The guards surrounded him, protecting him from any people that might want to hurt him. His pale skin glowed in the soft sunlight and he straightened once more, his black eyes fixed on the stage, waiting for the beginning of tonight’s sale. Lord, he didn't have all day.

Soon after he was seated the auction was to begin. Onto the stage walked to owner of this particular market. "Welcome all to tonight's auction. For those of you returning, I hope tonight you will have someone choose you, as you want. We have a fresh group tonight, along with a few regulars who have yet to find the one they choose. First up is a favorite of this mart who has yet to find a home. Demons of the world, Lady Freyali."

The market owner stepped back from the center of the stage circle where the slaves came out and then the girl that he had spoken of entered. She had been there for a year almost, unable to find an owner she was happy with. She was petite but lithe with muscles befitting hr size and structure. She was wearing a white dress with a few black frills. She had a black ruffled collar circling her neck with a tiny bell that jingled with every movement she made. She had pure white hair that was held back from her face by a tied black bow. It hung down below her waist. Two furry black ears peeked up from amidst her hair and her eyes were a wine-red color. On her left arm she had a white bandage tied up from her wrist to about 4-6 inches below it, with the ends trailing off in a bow. A black tail curved up from under her dress and she had black and white striped leggings on. When she first walked out a silence swept over the crowd. She stepped gracefully into the middle circle and that was when it started. The catcalls from the regulars and the new voices came from all over the room.

Boring, utterly boring. Looking down at his hands he swallowed, his eyes, the color of coals, starring at his rough, calloused hands. Then, at the sound of whistles, catcalls, and a series of hollers the young demon prince, Ijori, looked up. She was...magnificent. He stood slowly and then, tilted his head to the side, his black hair once more falling to the side.

Her ears twitched once, twice, and then her eyes snapped shut and she dropped to the floor, curling up in a ball with her hands clamped tight over her ears. She started to shake slightly, as if in pain. Suddenly a wizard appeared from the crowd and ran around the circle casting a silencing spell to protect her from the racket.

As the catcalls continued he had the sudden urge to cast down every one of them, bursting them all into flames. His eyes stayed on her for a long moment and then, he felt someone’s hand touch his shoulder and he jumped and looked over at his guard. "Are you alright, sir?" the guard asked.

Ijori, the young demon, nodded and then sat back down. He seemed to relax a little, but his gaze remained on the figure of the little terrified Neko. In all his years he had never seen someone so beautiful. Not even, Lord help him, not even his first beloved. Straightening in his seat he cast his eyes down and away. Even with the spell binding them together, how could he ever expect her to like him? And even as he thought that he scolded himself. She would not pick him. He was last to be picked. It would never happen.

The slave market owner yelled to the crowd angrily, "Stop it right now. Some of you are regulars and this behavior is uncalled for! You all know how sensitive a Neko-demon’s ears can be. It's never been this bad before, now shut the hell up or I'll kick every single person making any sort of noise out!"

The crowd quieted down almost instantly after the market owner scolded them, though none looked apologetic. They just didn’t want the auction to be ceased. The wizard stepped back, releasing the silence spell. The young Neko carefully and gracefully unfolded from her tight ball. First she peeked her eyes out at the now silent crowd and then gracefully rolled to stand up again, eyes carefully scanning the crowd.

At the silence that swept through the people his eyes looked up at the girl and he stood, his eyes turning dark as he watched her move. The delicate curving of her hips was breath taking. The gentle way her hair moving down against her back and shoulders was magnificent. The gentle swell of her breasts, the way her legs moved and flexed with each step. It was like nothing he had ever witnessed before.

Stopping before she got to the prince's area, she turned to the market owner. "Is there anyone new here tonight?" she asked him, her voice a little disappointed and hopeless. Her voice by nature had a slight purr and catlike tone to it.

When the market owner nodded to her she sighed and returned to looking at the crowd. Then her eyes swept to the prince's area and she frowned slightly in contemplation. She turned to the market owner and motioned vaguely in the prince's direction and he nodded. She stepped down and a bodyguard of the market was instantly at her side. She walked in the direction of the prince. Everyone kept trying to catch her attention but when one reached out and tried to touch her he was smacked by the bodyguard and glared at by Freyali. No one tried again after that. She then stopped right in front of the prince and titled her head, narrowing her eyes at him. "What's your name?" she asked, her voice light, quiet, and curious.

Straightening, Ijori kept his eyes the way they were and studied her as she stood in front of him, as if everything in the world was fine. As if she didn't know that she was a slave. At her words he studied her again. Was that some trick question? He was the future king of all the lands. Of all darkness!

Was this girl dense or something?

"I-I-I..." He felt tongue-tied. It was a strange experience for him, since he always had previously been in control, always been dominant. "Ijori. Ijori, future king of all the lands." Why was he answering to her as if he would answer to a lord or lady of the world? She was a mere slave, the bottom of the food chain. She was nothing. But, why did she feel like everything to him?

She tilted her head the other way, her hair shifting and falling over her shoulder. "Oh, I've heard talk of you in the slave pens. But I never knew you were so handsome. Well, Prince Ijori, my name is Lady Freyali. I am no ordinary slave you know. If I were to choose you, I would be loyal to you until my death or until you released me and returned me here. The slaves of this place are educated and some of us, like me, are set above the rest. Once you have us you may do with us as you wish. However, you may not kill us by your own hand once the bond is sealed or you will surely die a well. Would you be able to accept this responsibility?"

The way her voice was...so pure. It was almost child-like. Like a child asking for an extra piece of chocolate cake or something: so sweet, so innocent. She had probably never touched by a hand, a male hand. The thought made him think. What if she was? Why did his gut suddenly tighten? It almost made him angry to think another might have touched her. At her words, his eyes widened in shock.

She was choosing him? This angel? This angel of lightness was choosing him? The devil of darkness? Was she totally and utterly mad?!

For a long moment he considered declining her gracious offer, but what would the others do to her?

Wait…what did he care?! Yet…he knew he did.

Standing his full height of six foot four inches he nodded. What else could he do? He would not allow someone else to have her, to hurt her. He would cast them aflame before he allowed that to happen.

"I do. I accept."

She looked him up and down once, her five foot six inches to his six foot some. She then smiled, something she rarely did. She then turned abruptly and walked back to the stage, the guard following her.

The way her eyes were. They seemed to look into a soul. Like, she would be able to feel everything he was feeling. The confusion, the delight, and...well, the fear of it all. He feared that, as beautiful as she was, he would fall too hard for her and well, he would regret it? Beauty like that is deadly. He knew.

It was like she could see everything about him. The memories. The pain in his life. The way that he felt paranoid every moment that he walked on the isolated place he called "home".

As he watched her walk back he relaxed somewhat. Beautiful.

When she got to the stage the guard returned to his place and she stood, scanning the crowd once more. Then, in a clear, determined voice, she spoke. "I will announce my decision at the end of the sale." She then walked turned to walk back towards the pens at the back of the stage

"Bitch!"

A man came out of the crowd near her and jumped to the stage. "You say the same thing every sale! You think you're all that just cause you're a Slave-Lady!! If you were in my market I'd show you what being a slave is really about!" With that he took his hand and slammed the back of it across her face, sending her to the ground with the force of the blow.

At the yelling of a man, probably drunk, or outraged, his eyes and his heart hardened. Did he not realize that ...

-SLAP-

The smack echoed and, without realizing it, he was beside the man and his hand was around his throat, his eyes blazing red and black, fiery and deadly. "Don’t. Touch. Her." The words were tight as he continued to squeeze the offender’s neck, holding him above the ground, the man’s legs dangling helplessly underneath him.

Freyali was there on the stage, a hand held to her cheek where she had been slapped as she sat where she had fallen from the force. The market owner approached and gently lifted her to her feet, his one hand wiping the tears that had trickled down her cheeks. "My lady, I apologize. I will make sure he is appropriately punished," he murmured to her. "Please, I will escort you t your pen where you can rest until your announcement at the end of the show." She nodded mutely and stood to walk back to her pen.

The guard was by the prince’s side an instant later. He laid one calming hand on the prince's shoulder. "Prince Ijori, please release him. I will escort him out and he'll be banned from returning. Please, violence upsets the ladies." His voice was even and calm, even though the prince looked like he was ready to kill the man in his grasp and any who stood in the way of that goal.

The prince however, didn't seem to listen to him for a moment. Instead he just continued to squeeze and then, he looked over at Freyali. He could see the marking on her cheek and he growled and only ended up squeezing harder. He looked back up at the male dangling in his arms. "If I see you ever touch her, or any other female here, I will personally kill you." The man choked but Ijori had a feeling that he understood.

Dropping him onto the floor he watched the male squirm for a moment, trying to catch his breath. Ijori looked over towards Freyali, who was being lead towards her pen. He swallowed and took a step or two towards her but then he stopped. She would probably feel disgusted with him after this.

Why did he care? He never cared what the female species thought or cared for him. Not ever since…he stopped himself. He wouldn't think of it.

So, he took in a deep breath and then turned and walked back towards his guards, the guards looking him over to see if he was unharmed, even though they all knew that he was. Sitting down on his chair he popped a green grape from a pouch at his waist into his mouth, watching the door to the pens that she had gone into.

Who was this Lady Freyali and why did he have the urge to take her in his arms?

The market guard took the man off the floor and led him out and the market master returned. "Ladies and gentleman, another incident like that and I will shut down the market for the night. Please do your best to keep your neighbors in control. Now, let us continue. Oh yes, please keep in mind that all our slaves shown tonight are still untouched by the hand of man or woman." Saying that he continued the market for the night, slaves coming in and our, though no other Slave-Ladies or Slave-Lords came out. A few had been scheduled to appear but it was announced that they had refused after the scare of what had happened to the Lady Freyali and the owner had agreed to let them take the night off.

When the market drew to it’s close, the prince was antsy. He felt jumpy, excited, as if he wanted to get up and run back and forth through kingdoms. Taking in a deep breath he felt his leg shake, something he did when he was excited or eager, or just plain nervous. Relaxing after a moment he took another deep drink of his water and calmed his nerves.

What would she think of him? Wait. What was the matter with him! Why did he care! The feelings were stupid and unreal and he didn't understand them. God, he needed a real drink.

A hush settled over the crowd as the market owner walked out with Lady Freyali on his arm. They stood front and center at the stage. Freyali's cheek was still a little red but her eyes were clear of tears.

When he caught sight of the woman he blinked and took in a deep breath. It wasn't him. It wasn't. But, he knew that he would still feel protective of her. He would still want to send her flowers, roses, horses and gold of all kinds. Wait, what was he thinking?

Freyali’s gaze swept the crowd and then she looked up. "I have finally made a choice. I choose the Prince Ijori." The crowd sat stunned for a few minutes. After almost a year Freyali had finally chosen...

Once she began to speak he took every word in. But then, as her final statement rang in his ears, his heart stopped and he stared at her. Slowly, he walked towards her and onto the stage, his eyes taking her figure in for a moment. Bowing, he kept his eyes downcast. "My lady...why me?" He whispered.

She smiled once again and knelt down on both knees before him, bowing her head before him. "Please my prince, do not bow your head to me. I chose you because I like the feel of you."

She held one hand up and the market owner took her hand and then placed the Prince's on top of it and murmured a few words and a small glow flashed around the matched hands.

Once the glow faded, Freyali looked up at him from the ground. "My prince, I am yours to do with as you will. No longer am I the lady, I am simply your slave Freyali, and I will remain loyal to you until you release me or I am killed.”

She is mine, he thought to himself as he looked up at her. This beautiful Angel of Light was his. Nodding, he took her by the arm softly and led her towards the bottom of the stage. "Do you...have any belongings of any kind?" His voice was cold as usual, but in a way it was softer. That was at least a good sign, wasn’t it?

Freyali shook her head. "No, these clothes on my body are my only belongings. When they get washed, we receive a blanket to keep us warm," she said quietly. "Anything we use belongs to them except our own clothes."

Nodding, he looked at the guards. "Load the carriage!" he snapped. His voice turned hard and cold, and the guards jumped and loaded the carriage and got onto the horses. Prince Ijori opened the door for her and then took her hand to help her in. Once she was in, he got in after her and took off his cape to reveal a white satin-button down shirt and straightened slightly, putting his hands on his knees, his eyes hard and black, the way his every-day mood was. The carriage then went into motion as the moon came up and he relaxed somewhat, feeling slightly awkward and almost isolated with her.

Now that he had her, what was he to do with her?

Maybe awkward wasn't the right word for the way she made him feel. Uneasy. That was typically the word most used for him. It bothered him. But for the moment, that was how he felt around her.

Freyali's hands were folded in her lap and she had her gaze cast slightly down. Though she had been raised to be a Slave-Lady she truly had been uneducated in what to do for each owner treated slaves differently. The market owner didn’t want to spoil any of them for a future owner by teaching them to be the wrong type of slave. She glanced across to him. "My Prince, what did you buy me for?" she finally asked, her voice breaking the uneasy silence. "A pleasure slave, a torture slave, a housework slave?" She listed off some of the common types she had heard of in the slave pens.

"I..." He cleared his throat and then straightened once more, "I am not sure. You will be...my...everything." The words were like words a lover would speak to another. That didn’t sound right. "You will...be..." he shook his head and paused, trying to gather his words with care.

"I do not know, madam. I do not, to tell you the truth. I suppose that you will just...be treated like the lady that you are among my household." He felt uneasy, like she was testing him for the right answer.

"A...pleasure slave is out of the question even though it might be a possibility. Though we would have to think about that one. I mean…it depends on how you feel about it..." He felt like he was fumbling for words. It was unusual for him. He normally knew exactly what he wanted to say. This stuttering was making him look bad Wait, why did he care what she thought? She was just a slave, wasn’t she? He shook himself mentally. If he needed pleasure one of the maids were more then eager to help him with that.

"Torture is out of the question also, your skin is much too delicate to be harmed by the hand of another." With those words he reached out and touched her softly, just her cheek, his hands cold and rough, but the gesture was caring, especially for him. He found himself lost as how to act.

"And household is out of the question also, I can not imagine you hurting yourself with some foolish chore." A dry chuckle came from him but he didn't smile, his eyes going to hers. "What are you good at, my lady?"

She looked up at him, her gaze finally connecting with his. "I do not know. Because of my beauty and virginity everyone assumed I would be purchase as a pleasure slave, but we are educated in any ways except those of what to do as a slave. In the pens I was always the one the other slaves came to for a word of comfort or the shelter of an embrace, but that is not much of a skill." She then looked down as a blush flourished her cheeks. The next words spoken were true, yet they were spoken because she thought it was what he would want to hear. That is how they had been trained after all, to please their owners. "I would not mind being the pleasure slave of my prince. You are very handsome."

Clearing his throat he brushed his hair from his face and then nodded. Well, she was...forward, was she not? Beautiful, forward, and…seemingly eager to be a pleasure slave.

"In time, my lady, in time." His voice was strong and then he took in a deep breath and leaned back. Then suddenly his demeanor changed.

"...Let us see, how willing you are, young one."

With those words he pulled her to him and his mouth crashed down onto hers as if he was trying to crush all the oxygen from her lungs as he kissed her.

A stifled sound of surprise was quickly cut off as she relaxed in his arms, melting at the warm feeling that coursed through her body. So this was what it was like to be kissed? She let her eyes drift closed as she returned his kiss, hesitantly at first and then more eager. Her arms naturally crawled their way around him, though she was afraid she'd be yelled at for touching him later. She felt a fire burning within her that she had never experienced before and she also felt a feeling that this was right.

A strangled sound came from him and then he pulled away abruptly and put his hands over his face. "Damn it," he whispered softly, angrily. "Damn it, damn it, damn it," he repeated and then took in a deep breath.

"I am sorry milady. You should not...I should not have kissed you in such a way. I should not have touched you in such a way." He sat back and then took in another steadying breath. "That was not right of me.." As much as he wanted her, he didn’t want to do that to her.  He didn’t want to ruin that innocence, didn’t want to break her spirit, and didn’t want to force himself on her. It was irrational. She was just a slave, he shouldn’t care about her this much. Yet he did. "Damn it,” he swore again.

A blush flourished over her face and she drew her knees to her chest and looked down, suddenly shy. He hadn't liked it; she had done something wrong. And now he probably wouldn't do it again. She just felt drawn to him. She wanted to curl up in his arms and never let go of him and now he probably wouldn't ever let her touch him again. She had failed.

"I'm sorry,” she said quietly.” I did my best, but I've never kissed anyone before or been kissed. I didn’t know what to do. Forgive me for failing you my prince."

He felt like setting himself aflame but he didn't, he couldn't. He had a kingdom to look after, and he had a woman to look after. At her words, he looked up and his brow creased for a moment and then he shook his head. "No, no. It is not that. I just...you are not used to all of this and I should not touch you because I know that if I start I will not be able to stop until..." He stopped and shook his head. Then he changed again. He leaned over and took her face in his hands. "I'll show you and you will become very, very good at it. But we will move slowly" Still, he didn't smile but he did lower his mouth, his lips turning gentle as the pressed lightly against hers, softly, caressingly.

Her breath caught in her throat and her lips pressed against his in return, her eyes slowly closing yet again and the warm feeling returning to slip through her at his touch. It wasn't her fault? That was good, wasn't it? And when she thought about him teaching her a feeling of burning desire stirred deep inside of her.

Her lips were so soft under his. He wanted so bad to just take her then – take her now. God, everything dark and evil inside of him was coming out up even as he was trying to push it away. That is when he forced himself to pull away from her kiss.

When he pulled away she looked to him and then, on impulse, leaned towards him and wrapped her arms around his waist and buried her head in his shoulder, eyes closed. "That sounds wonderful, I cannot wait. But for now…hold me?"

'Hold me?' At those words he blinked. Holding needed gentleness, a gentleness that he did not have. "I...ahem, we are here, my lady." He said and then slipped her arms from around him and then opened the carriage door and got out, holding out his hand for her, his heart beating quickly from what had just happened.

She sighed and closed her eyes and then let him help her out of the carriage. She looked around and gulped. The walls were taller and the castle was taller. Everything was made of thick dark stone, and the sky seemed permanently overcast. So this was her new home? The prince was much more inviting and appealing than his home. But she shook her head slightly and determined not to judge the home by it's outside. She smiled up at the prince. "Well, shall we my prince?"

He nodded and took her hand, leading her towards the house. Getting her into the house he looked around as if he is waiting for someone to jump out at them both, with a knife in their hands, trying to destroy them.

Seeming satisfied it was safe, at least for now, he turned to her. “Come on. Let's just get to the rooms so you and I can get some sleep." He gripped her arm and led her towards the rooms. The halls were dark except for a few little candles on shelves or torches on the walls.

The Neko’s ears drooped as they walked through the halls, pinned flat to her head. The inside was even less inviting than the outside. She really had to live here? But then she looked at Ijori and suddenly knew that as long as she could be near him she could be happy anywhere.

Coming to the rooms he swallowed and looked around. It had numerous pictures on the walls, paintings of darkness, and he relaxed somewhat. "This one is your room," he said. "My room is connected to it." As the thought of their separate accommodations crossed his mind he mentally reminded himself that if he really needed to assuage his passion he would get a maid. He could not release that burning fire on her. It would consume her until there was nothing left.

She nodded and smiled at him, ears still drooping slightly. "Okay my prince. I will see you when we awaken then." She stepped into her room and looked around then sighed. She pulled the door closed and removed her dress and draped it over a chair, doing the same with her stockings. Her collar was placed on the seat of the chair with the bow from her hair.  The bandage around her wrist remained where it was. She was left wearing only the thong-type underwear and lacy bra they had given her at the slave pens. She then quickly crawled into her bed under the covers, as the room was rather chilly. She closed her eyes, hoping she would be able to get some sleep.

Nodding, he bowed. "Goodnight, Milady." He turned and walked into the adjoining room where he removed his shirt and breeches. He remained n only in underwear, a pair of shorts-type things that hung loose around him. He relaxed and then ran his hands down his face as he looked up at the ceiling, ignoring the thoughts of her in the next room as best he could. He then closed his eyes, relaxing finally and falling into a light sleep.

Freyali rolled over and stared at the ceiling. The draw of being near him was depriving her of sleep. Finally she sighed and rolled out of bed. Her bare feet made no sound as she crossed the floor, her cat instincts kicking in as her night vision had. She crept into his room, crouched slightly, and stood looking at him sleep.

His sleep was troubled and he groaned softly and then brushed his hair from his face, turning his face to the side. He didn't want to think.

Though she was scared of getting in trouble, she crawled lightly into bed to lay her head on his shoulder, one arm draping over him as she closed her eyes.

He groaned again and then, at the sound of the bed shifting he tensed and soon, he felt someone’s hair on his shoulder. He opened his eyes and gulped.

"I...what are you doing...?" He whispered, his voice tight with emotion. 

She jumped and then knelt on the bed, her head down. "I'm sorry, I know I should not have come...b...but...I couldn't sleep. I just wanted to be near you. That's the only thing I could think in my mind, was that I wanted to be near you. Forgive me." She seemed to shrink in size. "I will leave if you want me to."

"No." He answered almost too quickly. He liked her warmth, even though in his paranoia he figured that she would stab him just like that as soon as he turned his back, regardless of the binding. But, at that moment, it didn't matter. It really didn't. It was too perfect to matter.

"Lay back down, Milady. It gets cold in that room anyways," he said softly.

She smiled and curled back up with him much as she had before. "Thank you." She closed her eyes and nuzzled her head into his shoulder. "You are very comfortable." She didn't seem to notice that they were both almost naked. In addition to her arm she also wrapped one leg around one of his. "And warm."

He shivered at the feel of her skin against his and he had to steel himself, lest he do something drastic. Brushing his hair from his face he relaxed after a moment and kissed the top of her head. Gentleness: something he rarely showed anyone – ever. Something he didn’t even think he had in him to show.

"Hmm." He still did not smile but he was comfortable. "You are also." He whispered softly. He nibbled on her ear for a moment, his hand trailing down her side almost instinctively.

She shuddered at his touch, the nibbling and light stroke of his fingrtips sending shivers of delight up and down her spine. "Ooh," she sighed, "that feels good." She looked up at him, lifting her head slightly from his shoulder. One lock of her long hair fell and draped itself over her eye after she tucked most of her hair behind her ear.

Looking at her he suddenly couldn’t resist. His mouth lowered to hers and he kissed her. The kiss was soft and then, it deepened and he rolled on top of her, pressing against her as he continued to kiss her, his lips hot against her. His eyes closed as all thought went from his mind. Only her, him, and the bed remained in his thoughts. His tongue parted her lips and went into her mouth and stroked the roof of it, groaning softly, his arousal now evident as his weight pressed against her from above.

She moaned and felt his hardness press against her. She was startled at his sudden action and when his tongue slipped into her mouth she moaned again. Her tongue danced with his almost naturally. She hardly had to think about how to respond. This feeling burning up inside of her was like nothing she ever felt before. A part of her wanted more but a part of her was suddenly scared, this newness overwhelming her.

A moan escaped his lips and he rubbed against her, running his hand up her side, feeling the silkiness of her skin. He groaned softly and kissed down her neck, nibbling, licking, tasting. He wanted to explore every part of her. Another moan escaped him and he knew that he was getting lost in her. It was like the ocean tide, pushing him away and then pulling him closer. He nipped at her lower lip before kissing her again, full and sweet. She tasted so good to him; he couldn’t get enough of her.

She groaned with longing as he teased and taunted her fire of desire into a larger and larger burning need. But if you would look in her eyes you would see the slight fear and panic starting to rise. This was going so fast, she wasn't sure she could handle this. Everything was new and overwhelming and she couldn’t figure out how to react to one sensation before another hit her.

He felt her tense and he stopped and took his mouth from hers. Looking at her, he could see it in her eyes and he cursed himself. He was doing what he didn’t want to do. He rolled off of her abruptly and stood.  He moved to the window and put his hands on the windowsill.

"I'm sorry," he whispered softly. "I'll…go." He snatched up his britches, pulling them on. He then turned and jumped from the window landing down on the second story balcony. He growled, angry with himself, and jumped onto the ground, disappearing into the darkness.

Running in the forest he growled and then stopped and punched a tree, making it quiver. Then, a woman came from behind the tree and smiled slightly, her blond hair falling down her shoulders. She was half naked, her bra missing and her shirt dropping off her shoulders, her skirt still intact though mussed. He growled softly as he took a step towards her and kissed her, and she kissed back. He could taste the booze on her lips but he didn't care. Lowering her to the grass he took his pleasure with her and she gave it to him willingly. As he rolled off and looked up at the moon as she drifted into sleep he sighed. It wasn’t perfect, and she wasn’t who he truly wanted, but it would do – for tonight anyways.

She blinked and stood up and leapt to the window. She watched him disappear into the darkness and then sighed and closed her yes, dropping her head where she stood silhouetted in the window. Then she turned, her hair swaying with her as she moved and she crawled into his bed, curling up in the warm spot he had left, and then she slipped the blanket over her. She could smell him in the bed and it made her miss him and his warmth and his skin even more. She sighed, hoping he would come back. She drew one of the pillows to herself. It smelled of him. She sighed again and curled up with the pillow, falling into a sleep that wasn't restless but wasn't peaceful either.