|
Stolen Love Pt I |
||||
|
This short story was written in response to a few chat-mates who said that us guys couldn't write romance. Lovingwoman supplied the basic scenario and the character names. The rest was up to me... Here's part I :- The
lights flickered once more as the wind's icy fingers clawed at the
cabin, seemingly attempting to wrench the windows from their frames.
Lauren shivered, more from the sound than a feeling of actual cold.
Stretching his arms around her further, Damon pulled his love further
into his embrace. Their naked bodies sharing the warmth cast from the
roaring fire, which was now the only source of light as the electricity
finally lost its fight with the elements. Almost
simultaneously, the wind ceased, happy it seems to have won the battle
with the log cabin's power source. Silence
pervaded the room, and for the first time since they left the city that
morning, the couple were plunged into an atmosphere of complete
solitude. Blissful, precious solitude. The
light from the fire danced around the room, creating shadows as
fascinating as they were macabre, and Lauren settled further into the
large leather settee, watching the impromptu show in comfortable
silence. Lying in his arms, she looked at Damon, his vivid blue eyes
sparkling as he gazed down upon her elegant profile. "It's
difficult to believe we are finally here together, with no-one to spoil
it for us" she whispered. He simply smiled, and leaned his head
forward to offer his lips to her. As
they kissed, his hand moved over her chest, his fingertips marvelling at
the contrast between the smooth fleshy softness of her breast, and the
firm, hardening texture of her aroused nipple. As his mouth covered
hers, she sighed, and her body arched forward towards his touch. Their
kiss was long and sensual, for they both realised that this would be the
one they would forever remember as their first 'proper' kiss. His tongue
nudging gently passed her lips and exploring her mouth, savouring her
delicate taste and breathing her sighs into his own body. He could smell
her hair, still slightly damp from her earlier shower, and her skin was
warm and silky beneath his fingers. She
could feel herself weakening beneath him, the touch that she had dreamed
of for so long even more intoxicating than she had dared imagine. His
tongue pushing further into her mouth as she pressed her lips harder
against his and her fingers entwined in his hair. As
happy as she could ever imagine being, Lauren allowed herself to relax
completely into her lover’s arms, her actions informing him wordlessly
of her willingness to be taken by him. Only
7 hours earlier, they had been at that ridiculous party. Damon had been
there with his wife, Lauren's sister, and she had been there with her
brute of a husband. The Fogarty's had held the christening party early
in the day in an obvious attempt to keep certain people from drinking
too much and having their house become the next sorry scene in the
Lauren and William soap-opera. He had still managed to drink way too
much and by eleven he had become the familiar rowdy, obnoxious drunk
that all present knew so well. By eleven-fifteen, he had successfully
humiliated his wife and thoroughly embarrassed himself with another
outburst of abuse and rage, hurling malicious insults at Lauren about
her looks and in the cruellest fashion possible, drawing attention to
the unsightly scars on her arms. Everyone
knew, or at least suspected, that he had caused those scars. He always
carried a razor-sharp pocket-knife with him and he was well known for
brandishing it with a childlike fascination at every opportunity. Lauren
had run out in tears and William had followed close behind. Everyone
else continued to pretend to enjoy the party and Susanne, Damon's wife,
seemed once more to derive a sadistic pleasure in witnessing her younger
sister's torture. "If she was a better, more supportive wife, he
wouldn't need to keep telling her off,” she sneered from between a
tight-lipped smile. Damon had sighed then. A better, more supportive
wife like her, did she mean? The wife who had had a string of affairs
and had not so much as touched her husband in over a year, calling him a
clumsy and worthless lover. It
was at that point that Damon excused himself from the Fogarty's party
and went to look for Lauren. He knew exactly where to find her, and when
he arrived at the coffee shop she was sat alone, crying quietly to
herself. She
looked up at him as he drew a chair from under the table, her tear
stained eyes taking a moment to focus correctly on her visitor,
“Damon! How did you find me here?” With
a gentle, honest smile he sat at the table and looked deeply into her
eyes. “I know you come here quite often, to be alone. I can leave if
you wish.” “No, stay” her hand closed over his. “You’ve
noticed me in here before?” He
shifted nervously in his chair, seemingly checking the exits for a
getaway should he need to retreat quickly. “I know more about you than
I dare confess, Lauren.” Her touch was making him giddy with
excitement. This was a genuine intimate touch of affection and his heart
was thumping so hard in his chest that he was sure the whole room could
hear it. “That
husband of yours is a total bastard. How do you manage to put up with
him?” “In
much the same way as you tolerate my sister’s unfaithfulness and her
pitiless comments about your lovemaking.” He
could feel the heat rising in his face as he blushed a deep maroon
colour. He should have guessed that she would know of their
unsatisfactory love life, but this public comment on the state of his
marriage was hugely embarrassing. Sensing
his discomfort, Lauren squeezed his hand reassuringly. “I simply
believe that any shortcomings in the bedroom are related to my
sister’s attitude, not your own.” He could not hide his simultaneous
feelings of horror and pleasure in that statement, and he smiled. Her
own smile faded quickly as she realised that her outstretched arm was
showing one of its scars, and she drew her hand away quickly. He
would never know what force inside him caused Damon to grab her
retreating arm and hold it in his strong hands. She was about to
protest, but as his lips alighted softly upon the first of her scars,
she felt herself tremble. In
full public view, he kissed her arm, just above the wrist for a full
half-minute, and when he released her from his grasp, it was Lauren’s
turn to be flushed with embarrassment. “Damon,
if you only knew how long I have fantasized about you doing that to me,
kissing away my ugliness.” Holding
her gaze with his intense, piercing eyes he smiled warmly and genuinely,
making her heart skip a beat “Ugly is a word that could never be used
to describe you Lauren. You are the most beautiful woman I have ever
known and I have worshipped you for so many years now. In my eyes you
get more and more enchanting as each season passes.” She
could not remember the last time anyone had said anything positive to
her, and Lauren’s eyes welled with tears again. This time they were
tears of regret. Regret that this wonderful, handsome man was not the
person she was married to. She had admired his unconventional looks from
the first day she met him, her sister displaying him proudly, almost as
though he were a new coat rather than her boyfriend. But then, that was
how the system had always worked. Susanne would get the best of the crop
man-wise. Her confident brash manner seeming to be a more successful
tool in ensnaring the attentions of the opposite sex than her own
reserved self-effacing personality. Damon
was a sensitive, caring person, his modest income evidence of that. He
had chosen to work in an animal sanctuary for a pittance rather than get
employment in his father’s accountancy business. Lauren had first
loved the physical man, and over the years she had grown to love the
spirit within. But, as the system dictated, she was to always admire him
from afar. They
sat and chatted for over an hour, each instantly comfortable in the
company of the other. He watched her as she talked, her confidence
growing with each word as he smiled and nodded attentively. When he
spoke, her own smile grew and grew, and she found herself feeling as
though she were a worthwhile person after all. The
look on his face when she mentioned driving up to the log cabin would
have been comical were she not so worried about whether she had offended
him. The pause before his answer seemed to last forever. The atmosphere
in those few seconds was almost tangible, and when he spoke, warmly and
with deliberation, he said that he would love to drive up to her private
holiday home. They
left the coffee shop almost immediately and very soon they were on the
road. -oOo- As
Damon’s tongue worked a slow inexorable passage down her torso, Lauren
quivered in anticipation. Making love to this wonderful man would be the
most magical experience of her life. As she stroked his neck with her
fingertips, she tilted her head back and she was able to see out of the
window to the stars in the clear night sky. No longer was she jealous of those majestic stars, because here tonight, in her log cabin, she was to experience dancing through the heavens for herself, and her lover would prove to be the most skilful of partners. -oOo- |
|
