Flores Vitae: The Flower of Life

Chapter 13: Nothing against her Will

Matthias

That woman.

She stood there, bloody and dirty, with her arms crossed over her chest, and stared at me defiantly. Those two, spots of high color were staining her cheekbones, and she raised her chin dangerously. I had learned to beware of those flushed cheeks, but her temper excited me. I had seen fear in her eyes earlier... fear of me, or fear of the near-death situation she'd just survived, I'm not sure. But there was no fear now. Now it was if she was daring me, daring me to do something violent.

Instead I took her by the shoulders, and turned her to face her own reflection in the mirror. I wanted her to see herself. There was blood spatter up her shirt, across her face, even in her hair. She was covered with dirt, and bits of dried leaves were still stuck to her clothes and her hair. There was a smear of blood across her chin, probably from where she had bit her unfortunate victim. I looked little better, my shirt was also spattered with gore, but since it was black, it wasn't as obvious. With her facing the mirror, so that she could watch, and me standing behind her, I took the collar of her shirt, and ripped it straight down the middle... being careful to tear the fabric without pulling on her skin or hurting her in any way. Then I pulled it off her shoulders and threw it away.

She turned on me suddenly and unexpectedly. "You are dirty too," she growled, and she grabbed at my shirt and tore it open, sending buttons scattering across the bathroom floor. She pushed it off my shoulders, but the cuffs caught at my wrists. She focused her attention on unbuttoning the inside-out cuffs, her head bent close to my torso. I could feel her warm breath on my skin, I could smell the shift in her scent as her anger bled into desire. I held as still as a statue, waiting to see what she would do. She finally freed my shirt, and tossed it to the garbage where I had thrown hers. But she seemed to have forgotten her mission, as she stared at my chest. She brought her hands up, and finally, she touched me. I closed my eyes as her fingers traced over me, so lightly, so delicately. She followed my shoulders down my biceps, and then back up, across my collar bones, down the center of my chest, to my pecs. I alternated between watching her fingers, watching the concentration on her beautiful face, and watching the two of us reflected in the mirror. She had only ever touched me in her sleep, when she was unconscious and unaware. She traced around my n*****s and then followed the center line of my chest lower, over my abs, to my navel. Her exploration didn't stop until she hit the waistband of my pants.

Then suddenly she seemed to realize what she had been doing, and she gasped, and looked up into my face. "Rose," I groaned, and I bent down, intent to kiss her.

Before our lips touched she slapped her hand over her mouth. She made a gagging sound and turned back to the cupboard, rummaging through until she came out with a toothbrush and a tube of tooth paste. "I bit him, and ohmigod it got in my mouth and," she put an insane amount of toothpaste on the toothbrush and started to scrub her teeth. "How can you even kiss me," she asked, her mouth still full of foam, "Boris said that man is going to die." She spit the toothpaste out in the sink, and used her cupped hand to rinse her mouth. She spit again and then used her  hands to catch water and scrub the blood off her face.

I moved close to her, tracing the line of her jaw, before bending again to kiss her mouth, which now smelled and tasted of mint and flowers. "I can kiss you Rose." I murmured. "Its not the same as saliva in an open wound." I buried my hands in her hair and angled her head back. I had kissed her before, but this time, she responded. She melted against me, opened her lips to me, and kissed me back. I worked my hands under her sports bra, and lifted it over her head, freeing her breasts from confinement. I weighed each one in my hand, stroking the delicate globe, tracing her n*****s much like she had just traced mine. I was afraid. I was afraid that at any moment she would come to her senses and stop me, and I had promised her that I would do nothing against her will.

But her will at that moment seemed to be removing my pants. Her hands had slipped between us, and her nimble fingers were undoing my buckle, shoving the slacks off my hips. Her boldness surprised me, and I think it surprised her too, as she looked up at me in confusion. "Don't think so much, Rose. Just let yourself feel," I whispered in her ear as I bent down and removed her jeans, pulling her cotton underwear down with them. I turned on the water to fill the bathtub, and kicked off my own pants. She was naked, and I was in my boxers. Her fingers were back at work, memorizing the lines of my back this time. Around my shoulder blades, down the indent of my spine, the edge of my rib cage. Everywhere she touched, she set my cold flesh on fire. Her eyes fell to the front of my boxers, which were doing little to hide my arousal.

She looked up at me, her warm brown eyes uncertain, suddenly shy. Her lips were red and swollen from my kiss, and parted slightly. I nodded at her, and stood perfectly still so that she could do with me what she wanted. This was strange to me, being compliant, letting the woman lead. But I knew she was innocent, curious, and I wanted her to know me... I wanted her magical hands to learn every inch of my body. Emboldened by my consent, she slipped her hands under the waist band of my boxers, following the thin line of hair that trailed downwards from my navel. When she was nearly to touch me, she backed up, and traced the groove that ran from my hip into my groin. Her touch was exquisite and excruciating at the same time. Finally her finger traced the length of my shaft, from the base up toward the tip. She circled the end gently, carefully, before brushing her thumb over the end.

I growled and stripped the boxers off myself, and lifted us both into the bathtub. I'd wanted to do this since the first night I'd found her. She slipped into the hot water and I followed her. I'd let her have her time, now it was mine. I took a sponge and the herbal soap that she liked, and I began to wash her body. I soaped her warm skin with the sponge, and then followed with my hands. She was so soft and feminine and natural. It seemed like everything in my world had been hard and unyielding until I found her. She was impatient with my washing. Her hands found my face, and she kissed me, softly and shyly at first, and then with growing passion. I'm not even sure she was aware of everything she was doing to me, her hands in my hair, at my neck, pulling on my shoulders. She had shifted in the water, straddling me, pressing herself against me.

I knew it was her first time. I thought foggily that I should have planned something romantic, in a bed, by candlelight, with roses and flower petals... but there was no time. I wanted her now. I ran my hands up her thighs and parted her folds, and she moaned into my mouth. I slipped one finger inside her and found her hot, wet and ready. I pulled my fingers out and gently stroked over her bud. She hissed and grew still, her eyes wide on mine as I slowly stroked and circled her. "Let go, Rose," I murmured into her neck as I kissed her there. She closed her eyes and whimpered, her fingernails biting into my shoulders. She relaxed into me, letting her hips rock in rhythm to my stroking fingers.

"Matthias..." she whispered my name, separating the syllables, "please... I need..." I felt her thighs trembling, but I didn't want her to come yet. I raised her up and pressed my erection against her opening. She moaned again. "I think... its too big. You won't fit."

I leaned in and kissed her breasts, "We were made for each other, my love." I assured her, before I pulled her down onto my shaft. I tore through her virginity and felt her clench around me at the momentary pain. I stayed still inside her, still kissing her, stroking her breasts, her back, the soft curves of her hips, her thick thighs. In slow measures she relaxed again, her breath coming heavy as she began to move against me, lifting her self up, and then sliding back down, in slow sweet torture. I slipped a hand between us again, massaging her clit as we moved together in the water. The hot water sloshing around our bodies only added to the sensuality, the wetness of our bodies as we moved together. I let her set the pace at first, letting her ride me slowly, but as she grew close to climax, she was moving faster, breathing harder, grinding against me, writhing, begging for release. With a final cry, she shuddered and exploded around me, her body clenching and milking my shaft, soaking me with her slick fluids. I grasped her hips, and I forgot about being gentle and careful... centuries... centuries I had waited for this moment, and I buried myself into her hard and deep, over and over, pouring out all of my loneliness, all of my frustration. I turned us so that she was underneath me, I spread her legs wider and lifted her hips so that I could fill her completely, sheath myself fully to the hilt. I wanted... I wanted more than anything to sink my teeth into her soft flesh, to taste her living blood even as I climaxed and filled her with my seed... but I couldn't. I grit my teeth and plowed into her one more time before I released with a primal roar.