1 comments/ 14304 views/ 20 favorites Lunar Dance Ch. 01-02 By: sensanin Hey everyone, So here is the revised version of LD. Hope there aren't too many extra errors. -S *** Prologue The moon is a puzzling thing, to say the least. Throughout history there has been speculation about this luminous, spherical object in the sky. The moon at one point was thought to be a deity, who caused supernatural events to take place under its heavenly glow. In many instance the moon was associated with insanity and irrationality, as though this one object could cause man to lose control. When the moon is high Smiling down from the sky Our desires will release We will do as we please On such a night the wild prince Demir happened across the red haired siren Jozlyn, and so our tale begins. Chapter 1 Having run away from his home, Lunar Castle, Demir was wandering aimlessly around his land. The prince of Oscella felt trapped in his day-to-day life, his beautiful land out of his reach. So he’d gathered his bed sheets, tied them together and run; run fast and far, until he couldn’t breathe. He was free, he was wild, and that's when he noticed the moon, large and round and infinitely more complex than he had once thought it to be. As he stood, staring transfixed by the moon’s beauty, he felt something in himself change. His wolf rose to the surface, lethal, powerful, and dangerous, excited into a frenzy by the moon. Demir started to run, faster, farther, past the castle gardens and into the heart of the forest, he came to a clearing. In front of him was a small creak, in the back of someone’s yard. The yard was huge, with luscious, exotic plants bordering the house all the way to the creek. It worked as a sort of fence, making it impossible to pass the plants without making noise or hurting yourself. However, Demir had come from the other side of the creek, the side with the forest. If he had come from the street, the delectable red haired siren lying in the grass would have been safe. But he hadn’t, and she wasn’t. Safe, that is. Demir gazed at her, hidden by dense bushes and tall trees. For a long time he simply looked, the moon’s glow was as good as any electrical light. To this day he remembered every detail of that first look. She was lying on a large, multi colored quilt, her legs stretched out in front of her, right leg slightly bent at the knee, resting on her elbows, head back, with her eyes closed, she looked like some pagan sacrifice. She wore a dark emerald green nightgown, that came to her knees and elbows, showing the slight curve of her breasts. Her skin was a peaches-and-cream completion, contrasting well with her fire red hair, that lay fanned out around her, acting as a veil of sorts. It seemed that the more he gazed at her, the more he felt his control slip. Before he let it slip completely, Demir turned to leave. He took one more, long look and, preparing to turn and walk away, but something caught his eye, nearly as bright as the moon itself. The siren smiled. A wide grin that made her look ten times more beautiful then she already was. The smile widened, until it dissolved into an airy, light laugh, that drew him in, like a month to a flame. Stopping short, Demir tried to remain in control, but was losing miserably. He lost entirely when a sound no human could make came rolling from his throat. It was like a half growl, half groan; and the beautiful laughter stopped short. Demir watched her eyes scanned the forest slowly, finally locking on him. Her eyes were deep green, as green as the greenest emerald, and as beautiful too. He watched as her mouth formed a silent Oh, and her eyes grew to the size of saucers. Demir slowly stepped out from the dense safety of the forest, jumped over the creek and stood no more than ten feet away from her, more beast than man, waiting for his siren to make a move. ________________________________________________ Jozlyn sat on the beautifully hand sewn quilt her grandmother had made, staring at the wild man-beast before her. Her eyes widened incrementally as he stepped from the copse of trees, leaping over the small creek and onto her grassy back yard, the man stopped and waited. Waited for what, Jozlyn mused internally, not me! She stared at him taking it all in, sizing up her predicament and determining it was a dream. There was no way this was reality! Tarzan didn’t just erupt from a suburban forest, not in her life, it couldn’t happen! She decided to chalk the delusion up to the likely possibility she was ovulating. She had had sex on the brain for the last two days and her hormones were conjuring up a wild dream-man for her. But this was the most realistic dream-man she had ever dreamed of, and she decided then to commit everything to memory. Starting at his head, with his thick, wavy, shoulder length brown curls, and which shined with the moon. His face was austere, with a wide forehead, two slashes for eyebrows and high cheekbones. His nose was slightly crooked, as though it had been broken once or twice, followed by straight lips, the lower a little fuller, a little tempting, and damn sexy! At last, she met his eyes. She had seen those eyes in the trees earlier, but at the time could not determine their color. She could now. His eyes were a mash of color, being green and blue and brown all at once. She could think of only one word to describe them; wild. He was tall, at least six feet, if not a few inches taller. He wore jeans and a t-shirt, even though it was 69 degrees out. Of course, she was no better. He had tanned arms, which showed a light dusting of hair, with no shoes. His clothes said he was civilized, but everything else said otherwise. He was muscular, and every muscle in his body was locked. He was dripping testosterone and practically flooding her with it. Everything about this man screamed ‘Run Away!’ ‘Scream’, ‘Do Something!’ But the only thing she found herself capable of doing was licking suddenly parched lips. She saw him shift, ready to pounce, his gaze zoning in on her lips, and she heard it again. It was the sound she had heard before, a sort of wild half growl, half groan. The impact of the sound hit her, like a wave taking her under. Her skin chilled and goose bumps rose, a slight flush staining her cheeks. She gasped at the intensity of her reaction, her nipples becoming erect, hard, her breast heavy and swollen, pushing against her cotton nightgown, the gentle friction the cruelest of torture. Demir took a step toward her, his mind trying to leave, to tell his body to go, but losing the battle. Everything about the siren screamed ‘Take Me!’ And he was at the point where he just might do it. Giving her one last chance, he forced words out through clenched teeth, “You should leave now, if you don’t want to be fucked senseless.” There he had said it, now she would leave. She continued to stare at the wild dream-man. That statement would have knocked her on her ass, if she had she been standing. For what seemed like an eternity, but was probably no more than a few seconds, she struggled with her decision. As fluidly and as gracefully as she could, she rose to her feet, moving toward him until she was but a few inches distant. If possible, his muscles tensed and hardened even more. Reaching her hand up to his arm she felt the tendon and muscle flex and lock, as she stroked, feeling the soft hair caress her palm. “And if I do?” She said tilting her head back to look at him. Being five foot eight no one would call her short; but she felt damn near petite next to this giant. Perhaps she was wrong; he was more likely six foot four. His eyes narrowed to slits and his nostrils flared. “What?” It took her a moment to realize he had spoken; it came out more as a deep growl than anything. Tilting her head to the side, she batted her eyes, deciding how she wanted her dream to end, “And what if I want you to… fuck me senseless, what would you do?" She moved closer, nothing separating them now, and rubbed up against him like a cat with a scratching post. With that, Demir lost whatever vestige of control he had, and roughly dragged her up against him. Jozlyn could feel him everywhere, his scent enveloping her. His lips and tongue devoured her as she let an unrestrained “fuck” fall from her lips. ___________________________________________ Jozlyn woke as the sun broke over the horizon, the lingering mist of yesterday clearing with the bright rays. Instantly, she became aware of two things, the sounds of rushing water, and the need to pee. Instead of moving, however, she decided to lay there, replaying her dream from the night before. Never had a dream felt so real, and at the mention of real she shifted her legs, feeling a slight twinge between her legs. Jozlyn would have thought it was the pain of having sex for the first time and then several times after that, but last night had been a dream, and so should have no lasting effects. She groaned, opening her eyes and moving into an upright position. Instantly her body hurt, it felt swollen and heavy and… claimed. Jozlyn did a quick evaluation of herself. Nightgown? Check. Quilt? Check. No sexy wild man about, to make passionate love to her? Check. So it was a dream and maybe this was just the effect such a strong erotic dream had on a person? She had never had a sex dream so who was she to judge. Even though her breasts ached, and she itched to assuage the ache with a long hot bubble bath, she resisted. She had to get up; she had to go to school. Jozlyn moved her limbs gingerly until she was standing on her legs, legs which were shaking, and vehemently protesting their use! She awkwardly walked to the back door of her house, as luck would have it, right on time. Because no sooner had her hand touched the brass doorknob, that a shriek nearly spilt her head in two. “Jozlyn Sabrina Phillips!” A woman yelled, clearly frustrated. Jozlyn was in for it now; her mother would probably lecture her to death about sleeping in the backyard and the potential dangers. Jozlyn twisted the knob, opened the door with a soft swoosh, and thought she might actually listen to her mother this time, especially the part about strangers in the night. __________________________________________ Damn! He felt good! Better than good, he felt great! Ecstatic! Like he could take on the world! Demir smiled, looking at his body in his bedroom mirror. He was a large man, six foot six inches. When he walked into a room everyone took notice. It was a habit, many did it without conscious thought; it was just… natural. He was a man among men, king of the urban jungle, a wolf. As he stared at his body he became acutely aware of this fact. He was a wolf who had found his mate. She had been passionate, uninhibited, and just as wild as he himself. His body was marred with scratches, love bites, and bite marks; on his shoulders, and down to his chest, then lower still. She had been a wild thing in his arms, calling out to the beast inside him, the beast he had kept on a leash. That beast had nearly broken through yesterday night, and as much as she had marked him, he had marked her. Their dance had been one of claiming and being claimed. Even his ass had marks! Yes, naked and proud he stood in front of the large mirror examining her handy work. A knock drew him from his day dreams and back to the present. He grabbed a robe, which was haphazardly thrown over a chair, and tugged it on. He stalked to the door and threw it open, not surprised to see his attendant Marshalls. Marshalls was thirty-two, and a couple of inches shorter than Demir, but still towered over most men. He had thick black hair with the beginnings of gray streaking through, a straight nose and a straight mouth, which gave a no nonsense appearance. His back was unbending, and his smart black uniform suit was impeccable. Everything in its place; no wayward strings. Demir turned away from the door and Marshalls, stalking to the bathroom to take a shower, the chiming of the eight o’clock bells making him aware of the hour as he did so. He took a quick shower, thinking about his new school, which his parents had enrolled him in. Having grown accustomed to the best tutors, it had come as a shock to him when his parents had announced he would be going to one of the best junior private college in the country, with other young adults! He was only nineteen, as his mother had continuously reminded him, and he had to do some semi-normal teenage things. Such as school and social events like mall shopping and basketball playing. Demir stepped out of the shower and grabbed a towel of a warming wrack. Haphazardly tying it around his waist, the towel dipping dangerously, Demir grabbed another towel, proceeding to dry off his hair. He exited the bathroom, not surprised to see his school uniform laying out on the bed, and Marshalls tiding up the room. Demir eyed the articles of clothing doubtfully, expecting them to grow wings and fly out his French doors, across the patio, and burn up in flame. No such luck, they remained there, mocking him. Out of the corner of his eye, Marshalls opened the door, preparing to exit. “The town car will be waiting out front for you. Please see to it that you dress promptly, and are down stairs within ten minutes. I would hate for you to be late on your first day.” Marshalls said quickly, professionally, before he closed the door. The car ride to his new school was a quiet ride, mainly due the prince himself. Demir couldn’t seem to get the red haired siren out of his mind. She was beautiful! He thought. Sexy and curvaceous, she had carved a nice warm place for herself in his memory. “Sir, who is beautiful?” Marshalls asked sitting opposite him in the London town car Demir’s father had imported. “The red haired siren I met yesterday. Marshalls! I can’t seem to get her out of my mind!” Demir said, flinging his arm across his eyes, as though the siren was in front of him instead of Marshalls. Marshalls frowned, recalling what they had done yesterday. No where in his memory had they gone out, and no red haired woman had come to the castle yesterday. What could the Prince be talking about! His frown deepened, as he feared the worst. “Sir you didn’t?!” His outraged tone had Demir removing his arm from over his eyes. “Didn’t what?” Demir asked, staring at him as if he had grown a second head. Marshalls cleared his throat loudly, and took a deep, shaky breath in. “Please tell me you did not sneak out of the castle again!” Demir’s eyes darted to the side, before he said “No”. A complete lie, Marshalls knew. A tell tale sign of the prince lying was when his eyes wavered. “That’s a lie!” Marshalls said before continuing with the inevitable lecture that was to come. “You are a Prince! You cannot simply sneak out of your room and endanger you life! You have responsibilities, and what if…” Marshalls continued, but Demir had already checked out, he had heard this speech more times than he liked to count, and had no desire to hear it again. Demir knew he had responsibilities damn it! But he also had a life. He wanted to live, not be cooped up with his responsibilities all day. Demir was brought back from his musings with the sharp retort. “Who is this woman, this red haired siren that has you in such a fog?” Curiosity coupled with impatience infused Marshalls tone. He looked at the Prince, flabbergasted by what he saw. Distraction! He was distracted and not just a little, but a great deal! The prince looked at the older man and said with such clarity, there was no mistaking his words. “She’s the woman I’m going to marry.” Even as Demir said the words, he wondered where they came from. Marry? Hell would freeze over before he did that! Have a whole lot of sex with the siren? Hell yeah! But marriage? No. Marriage wasn’t even on his radar, they weren’t in the same country; they weren’t in the same world. Marriage was for old people, not him! But as the words were out he felt no compulsion to bring them back in. Because he knew he meant them, deep in his heart he knew he wanted to marry his red haired siren. “What’s her name?” Marshalls asked the prince. Demir’s mind went back to the previous night, trying to recall her name. He didn’t know her name? How was that? How had that detail slipped his mind! He knew every inch of her luscious body. He knew what sounds she made when she experienced pleasure, and the sounds from experiencing pain. He still remembered her crying out as he had pierced her hymen. She had been virgin; the knowledge had nearly made him spill himself right then and there, barley in her! But he had held still, even though he had wanted to do as he had promised and fuck her senseless, he waited, gave her time to adjust, which had been torture. Only the bone deep need that she be comfortable and find her pleasure before him had kept him from putting her ankles on his shoulders and thrusting into her like there was no tomorrow. As Demir’s mind wandered, so did his hand, venturing down south, and stroking himself into arousal. “Ahem! Please stop that. What’s her name?” Marshalls asked more curious than ever about the woman. He was astonished, struck dumb! Oh all the things he expected to hear those words were not even in his top billion. What had happened last night to cause such a drastic change in the prince’s life, Marshalls wondered. He saw the prince mull over it, his brows furrowed his lips thinned, and he had his answer. It was written as clear as day on the princes face! “You don’t know her name!” It wasn’t a question, it was a fact, and the grumbled response confirmed it. The car was silent the rest of the way, the two men thinking about the nameless red haired siren. ____________________________________________________ “You’re late Miss Phillips! Why is that?” Miss Mallory asked as Jozlyn stumbled into class two minutes late, hands on her knees, head bowed, gulping in air. She raised her head incrementally, looking at her professor. The room took a sudden turn and stared spinning of its own accord. Her face paled and the professor noticed her sudden state of distress. “Jozlyn are you alright?” Miss Mallory said, worry and anxiousness coloring her tone. Jozlyn fell to her knees, her ears ringing, stomach turning, eyes tearing up, and her head spinning. She felt a hand on her back, rubbing soothing circles. Miss Mallory’s face flooded Jozlyn’s blurry vision, worry etched in every line of her face. “Hang in their Jozlyn.” Miss Mallory said vehemently, close to her ear, while Jozlyn continued gulping in air. “Someone go get the nurse!” Miss Mallory yelled to the general class. Jozlyn heard chairs sliding, and the rush of many voices and feet, but she was too preoccupied with not fainting to really take everything in. Her brain slammed up against her skull, banging like a drum, and tears began to stream down her face. Another voice coupled with Miss Mallory’s gave soothing encouragements, things like “breath” and “that a girl”. Slowly the room stopped spinning, her eyes still hurt and her head ached but the room was starting to look horizontal. The nurse, Mrs. Brocklyn, showed up not a second later, her cheeks slightly flushed and her brows furrowed. “What’s wrong?” She knelt before Jozlyn, feeling her head, bombarding her with twenty questions, only five of which she answered. The nurses’ expression cleared, and a smile touched the corners of her mouth. “You’re probably dehydrated as well as hungry. Hey, can someone help me get her to the nurses’ office?” Mrs. Brocklyn addressed the class, Kayla, Jozlyn’s best friend who had been kneeling next to her, offered to help her to the nurses’ office. Today was going to be a long day, Jozlyn thought before promptly turning her head to the left and gagging. __________________________________________ Lunar Dance Ch. 01-02 “Hello everyone, my name is Henry Demir Jacobs Manchester the third, second prince of Oscella. It is my pleasure to make your acquaintances.” Demir flourished the class with an elegant bow, his ears growing deaf to the accustomed screams and shrieks that came with his introduction. As he once again straightened he took note of every face in the classroom, many had the same expression. Disbelief, happiness, and arousal were reflected from most of the women. Envy, interest and jealousy were reflected from most of the men. It was always like this, the women melt like chocolate, while the men harden like concrete. It simply was, and had always been, and would probably always be. Whenever he walked into a room people took notice. Men stood straighter, trying to reach his height, and women batted their eyes and licked their lip in invitation. Only once had he accepted such an invitation. A red haired siren had licked her lips and batted her eyes and he’d jumped her like a dog in heat. Again his thoughts strayed to the events of previous night, but he wrenched himself back to earth. He had a duty to perform. He smiled at the class, charming and effective as his smiles always were. He looked out into the sea of bright young faces, feeling old and tired. Many of them were his age mates, and yet he felt a good decade older. Experience did that to a person. His face already carried the marks of experience, and even though he was nineteen, he seemed twenty-six. His teacher, Miss Mallory gestured to a desk in the second row, next to the windows. Secrets, expectations, and duties weighted heavily on his shoulders as he took his seat. _______________________________________________ Whistling a cheery tune, Jozlyn made her way down the hall to her class. After eating a few things and drinking at least a gallon of water, Mrs. Brocklyn had let her go. Mrs. Brocklyn was a nice woman in her late fifties, buxom with a kind smile; she behaved like a nice grandmother, the role easy to step into because of her own grandchildren. Jozlyn thought about the very intense conversation Mrs. Brocklyn and she had had. More or less, her body was fine; she didn’t need to starve herself and blah, blah, blah. Adults never except the old, ‘I just forgot to eat’ thing, they always questioned ‘How can you forget to eat?!’ Jozlyn had listened politely, despite her opinions on the subject she kept quiet, waiting her chance to interject and ask to return to class. After a few minutes Jozlyn had been ready to just interrupt, when the conversation had taken a sudden turn. “Jozlyn,” Mrs. Brocklyn began, her tone at the beginning of the lecture motherly and supportive, now turned dead serious. “I saw the bruises on your body.” Jozlyn’s eyes widened as she ran her hands over her clothed body. What bruises? She wondered. The action to her was more about locating the hidden marks, but she thought Jozlyn was trying to cover them up. Her lips thinned and little white lines formed around them. “I saw the bruises on your hips and thighs and posterior. I just want you to know if there is anything going on you can tell me. We can get you some help if you don’t feel… safe at home.” The words nearly fell over each other in her haste to get them out. Posterior? Who said posterior? Mrs. Brocklyn did apparently. Wait, what did she say about home? Jozlyn replayed the speech in her head slowly. Did she think her parents were abusing her? Jozlyn’s jaw dropped. Pigs would fly before they laid a hand on her! “I feel fine at home!” Jozlyn said indigently. “I don’t know where the bruises came from. But my parents didn’t cause them. And before you get our mind in the gutter I haven’t had sex yet! Can I go to class now?” The nurse looked taken back, and slightly ashamed. “I’m sorry. I worry. It’s my job" she said looking slightly away, as uncomfortable with the situation as Jozlyn was. "Are you sure you don't know where they cane from? Maybe you met someone last night?" Mrs.Brocklyn said, watching Jozlyn carefully. Last night? Jozlyn's dream came rushing back at her full force, but she quickly disregarded it. A dream is a dream, and there is no way anyone could get into her back yard from the forest anyway, it was freaking huge and actually connected with the royal forests about 40 or so miles away. "No. Look maybe I bumped into a bunch of stuff or something. Can I just go back to class now?" Jozlyn asked a touch of anxiety in her voice. "Oh, of course dear.” Mrs. Brocklyn busied herself with straitening the sheets on the bed Jozlyn had slept on. Jozlyn looked at the older woman, realizing she had hurt her feelings. She also realized that, as hard as it had been to listen to, it had been harder to ask if someone had been abusing her. Most people would have left it alone, swept it under a rug, Jozlyn mused, but not Mrs. Brocklyn. She cared too much about the students to do something that selfish. Jozlyn had then apologized profusely to her schools’ nurse, and the two women had had a heart to heart. Jozlyn really didn’t know where the bruises had come from. She had told Mrs. Brocklyn, who had in turned replied that they were marks most commonly found when you had sex and the man was a little rough. Jozlyn had explained she hadn’t had sex, and the conversation had ended, Mrs. Brocklyn had not entirely accepted what Jozlyn had said, but thought it best not to press the girl. She had sent Jozlyn back to class with a bottle of Evian, and a cryptic parting. "I hope you're prepared for what's coming". Of course Jozlyn disregarded it, murmuring a goodbye, and shuffling on. Jozlyn stopped at her classroom door, reaching for the knob wondering about the bruises that her dream man might have made. The metal was cool on her palm as she turned the knob and stepped into her classroom.