4 comments/ 13710 views/ 5 favorites The Passion of the Storm By: xDarkxStarsx It was raining; of that much, Brianna was sure. Focusing on the sound of rolling thunder helped rouse her from her sleep and drown out the pound of her trembling heart. She sat abruptly, brushing the last remnants of her nightmare away, staring with wide grey eyes at the ancient clock stuck to the dingy wall of her cheap room; it ticked loudly every second, sticking here and there as the second hand made its way around the face. She stared at the clock intently, waiting for the beating of her heart to slow once more. The sound of the pouring rain and the nearly steady tick of the clock helped to calm her. With an angry sigh, Brianna flopped backwards onto her stiff, creaking bed, dark brown hair sprawling out in curls across her white pillow; feeling frustrated at another night's bad sleep. She had been having these nightmares for close to three months now; they had gotten so bad so quickly, that for two weeks, before she left her home, she had stayed up every night, not allowing herself a moment's sleep. That, of course, led to a decrease in productivity at her work, and her immanent termination. Finding herself now with a bit of free time on her hands, Brianna had decided to take a small break before looking for new employment. She had saved up a good sum of money, and always having had a curiosity and desire to see Ireland, she flew across the Atlantic from her home in Northern California, to the little island. That was how she had found herself here, in this worn down inn, an hour or south of Dublin, southwest of Dun Laoghaire (a seaside town she had briefly passed through, finding it beautiful, with a wonderful public park), right in the middle of nowhere. She ran a pale hand across her face, her pink tongue darting out to taste her lush lower lip. The dream had never been as vivid as it had just been; and if she were being honest with her, there was a bit of excitement mixed in with all that fear. She swallowed, closing her eyes as she tried to recall it. It started the same as it always did; she had been alone in a drizzly wood, wearing naught but a white nightshift that ended a few inches above her knees with a bit of lace, and dipped down dangerously across her adequate bust line. The drizzle would then turn to a light rain, and she would get an itch between her shoulder blades, as if she were being watched intently. She would turn slowly, and be met with the curious, intense stare of a large, black wolf, amber eyes boring into her own. They would stare at each other for a few long moments before it would pick up a growl in its throat, something dark moving through those gorgeous, lustrous eyes. And, of course, she would turn and flee the opposite direction, moving clumsily over fallen trees, around broken stumps and past hanging lichen. Her movements were comparatively slow to that of the wolf, which could run at thirty five miles an hour. She would hear it panting after her, paws noiseless on the soft, sodden earth. It was a log that would do her in, causing her to be airborne a few moments before face planting into the moist, rich soil. She would lay, stunned, her nightshift crumpled around her waist, exposing her nether region to the world at large. Before she had the time for her senses to return enough to get back up, or even to crawl away, the wolf would land on her, claws digging into her tender white flesh, teeth snapping at her back. She would scream as it snarled above her, and that was normally when she would awaken. But not last night; no, it had continued. The wolf had not immediately begun devouring her as she had expected. Its claws had dug into the expanse of her shoulders, and the backs of her sturdy yet soft thighs, leaving cuts and scrapes in the flesh. It had snarled in her ear; snapped its jaws at her neck, biting down just enough to draw blood. It had then lapped eagerly at the wounds, making soft, guttural sounds as it drank down the coppery taste of her. She had begun to cry softly, making small helpless noises with each stroke of its rough tongue along her sensitive skin. The wolf, having lapped up all the blood at the surface, pulled its muzzle back, letting out a coughing bark as its claws and paws dug more fiercely into her thighs. Brianna cried out, more from shock than pain, her legs jerking, trying to squirm out from under the menacing talons. The wolf began panting in her ear, growling low again. She froze in response, willing her heart to stop its painful thud; surely the wolf could hear it, and she knew it could smell her fear like some sweet perfume on the air. Then it did something completely unexpected; it stepped down, off of her thighs, standing its hind legs between them, before dropping its hips and rubbing a slender erection against her bare bottom. Her grey eyes flew open wide then shut tightly as it began grinding itself against her soft flesh, grunting horribly all the while. The front paws slipped off of her shoulders, landing in the dirt on either side of her head as it rubbed and rubbed, the erection slowly growing thicker, more familiar; the grunts become deeper, but less animalistic. The smell of the creature moving so eagerly against her changed as well; it went from a deep musky scent to something sharper, cleaner but no less intimidating. Bolstering her courage, Brianna managed to open her eyes, shocked to see tan hands beside her head instead of the ruthless paws. She stifled a small, hysterical squeak as one of the hands disappeared and she felt her legs being further spread. The man above her, and he was a man, no doubt about it, angled himself as he drew her hips up just a fraction and plunged into her surprisingly wet and slick interior, burying himself to the hilt. Their voices mingled in a strangled cry, twenty fingers digging into the dirt as he began to slowly withdraw from her warm folds. He was panting heavily above her, murmuring something in a language she couldn't understand; it was rough and fluid all at once, soft and harsh, as were his actions. He had run a surprisingly tender hand down her back, slipping around to her front to cup one of her generous breasts, squeezing softly. Then she felt his mouth clamp down on her shoulder, teeth biting into her flesh hard enough to draw flesh blood, making her cry out. His hips, slender she could feel, began pounding out a hard rhythm in and out of her. Seemingly unsatisfied with her lack of response, the hand that wasn't busy fondling her breast eagerly, slid down her front, pressing down on her swollen feminine mound. He began rubbing in a circular motion until her breathing became a heavy pant and her throat issued a series of helpless cries, whether for him to stop or go on, she could no longer tell. One of his fingers, thick and calloused, slid inside her, rubbing her clit softly at first, then harder and harder, as Brianna's moans grew louder and more frequent. Her hips, traitorous hips!, began to rise in fall in time with each hard thrust, his shaft sliding smoothly and firmly in and out of her. Her attention was abruptly shifted back to her breast as he gave a sudden tug on it, fingers pinching at the swollen pink nipple, rolling it between his thumb and forefinger. To her surprise, she found her own hand rising to pull at her unclaimed breast, pinching and pulling at the nipple until it was as hard a peak as the other. He growled his pleasure in her ear, sending a series of shivers down her spine. His mouth then once more latched onto her shoulder, sucking on the wound he had made earlier; the tip of his tongue darting out to flick the edges of the scrapes, eagerly drawing more, fresh blood forth. With every powerful thrust of his hips, every inch he gained inside her, she cried out, until her voice was ragged from the strain. Another finger was added to the one circling and rubbing her clit, and the two began gently pulling on it, tugging it and rubbing it with a ruthless abandon. A warmth seemed to be just on the brink of exploding inside of her and she let out a hoarse cry, barely registering his own shout of pleasure as she dimly felt him shoot his seed inside her. And then she had woken. The fear had driven back the arousal that had been upon her, but now, laying safe and warm on her squeaky, stiff bed, she felt her breathing become a little ragged, eyes glazing slightly. As she twisted in bed and flung back her covers, she could feel a dampness in her underwear. Brianna closed her eyes, her hand drifting down towards her swollen, aching mound. She was getting hot, so very hot! She tossed her covers off, fingers flicking tentatively over her arousal. Her breath caught, the gentle sensation seeming to pierce right through her. She began to rub herself desperately, one hand going to squeeze her own breast through the thin material of her shirt. Her hips began bucking in a steady rhythm as she tried to finish her orgasm, feeling it building up so very, very close. Something was missing – no matter how hard or fast she rubbed, no matter how many times her skilled fingers flicked across her clit, she just couldn't come. She could have screamed her frustration to the walls, but was still alert enough to realize if she did, the old proprietress of the inn would come running and that would be rather bad, wouldn't it? She was about to cover her face with a pillow to muffle a small scream, unable to hold back any longer, when the window to her room slid open and a ruffling noise let her know someone had entered. She jolted bolt upright, hands flying to her sides. With flushed cheeks and wild grey eyes bright with passion, she looked like an untamed creature of the forests; something long forgotten in the modern world of machines and technology. No more than three feet from her stood a man that looked no less tame. He was tall, well over her own petite 5'2"; probably over six feet. She stared at him in wonder, too shocked to do anything but take in his form. He was tanned; even in the dull glow of the moonlight she could see the golden sheen to his skin. He had a mop of curly black hair that hung nearly to his broad shoulders. His jaw was square-cut and strong with a hint of a beard showing through, a five o'clock shadow. His nose was straight, not too wide, but a little long. His lips—god, his lips!—were lush and sinfully kissable. A fine misting of dark hair spread across his broad, masculine chest, dipping low on his belly. It was then she realized he was naked, and rather happy to be there, watching her with the oddest eyes; they were bright amber in color, a shade akin to gold. In fact, they reminded Brianna oddly of the wolf from her nightmare... She let a small, hysterical squeak out as she realized his eyes were very nearly identical to the wolf's. He grunted lightly at her squeak, furrowing his thick but well shaped black brows together, as if upset. "I will not harm ye," he murmured, deep voice husky and thick with an accent she was growing accustomed to. He held a hand out towards her, palm up, signaling that he meant peace. The look in his eyes, though, was anything but peaceful; it was dark, promising heat and a fiery passion she was certain to never forget. Her body responded to that look, blood heating, even as her heart slammed in her chest in fear. What was wrong with her that she still felt an ache so strong she was on the brink of madness? "What are you doing here?" she managed the words, her voice lower and hoarse with the effort it took to not only speak, but to simply form coherent thought. God! She would go crazy if she couldn't finish herself off soon! He took a step nearer the bed, both hands raised now, advancing slowly so as to not startle her. "I'm here for you, Brianna." She bit her lower lip, staring at his mouth as it moved. To feel those silken lips on her skin would be heaven. Then his words registered and she blinked, eyes refocusing on his own. "Wait, what? How do you know my name?" She should be outraged by this, scared as hell, but she was oddly curious. Honestly, what was wrong with her? His luscious lips twitched upwards at the corners. "I know much about ye, Brianna," the way he said her name sent shivers up and down her already trembling spine. "My name is Keir, in case ye were wonderin'." His slow smile made her heart leap in anticipation, then again as his eyes raked over her form; her rolling hips with a small waist; her night shirt, pressed tightly against her full breasts; the black panties that barely covered her swollen, tender feminine mound. He grunted softly, his long, thick erection curving up towards his belly button in a perfect arch. Her eyes fluttered as she imagined herself running the tip of her tongue along the underside of it, gently taking the tip into her warm mouth to kiss and suckle. She shook her head, trying to clear the all-too potent image. "Why," she tried to say, but found her voice gone. She cleared her throat and tried again, "Why do you know about me? And how?" A fierceness appeared in his gaze that hadn't been there a moment before. "I know because ye are mine, Brianna. I felt the moment you were brought into this world and I've been searchin' for ye," he chuckled here, giving a small shake of his tussled head. "I didna know ye might be American. It took me a verra long time to find ye, my dear. Ye are the last link I have to this land, the only thing that holds me soul to this land. I've been fading since the last of me children died here, in 1773." She stared at him, trying to comprehend what he was saying, finding her arousal making thinking very hard indeed. "You...what? Your children? In 1773? How old are you?" She shouldn't believe him, but she found herself doing so, against her better judgment. What he was saying was crazy, and yet...it rang true in her heart. "Och, I'm old enough; much older than ye could understand. And yes, my children; the wolves, my dear. I believe that's why ye were born where ye were; your land still has them, no?" Brianna nodded, grey eyes locked to his deep amber ones. She swallowed hard, once again drawn to the beauty of his mouth. "But...what am I to you? Why am I 'yours'? Why do I hold you here?" The look of fierceness returned to his beautiful eyes, mouth curving in a smile that tempted her. "Because, ye are the other half of me; don't ye feel it?" He took another step to her, now his legs pressed to the side of the twin bed. She felt something, that was for sure. Looking at him, standing so proudly in his naked splendor, how could she not? How could she not be drawn to him, want to touch him and take him inside of her? She had never felt this way before, not about anyone or anything. She licked her suddenly dry lips; a quick movement of her tongue that drew his gaze to her mouth, making his arousal harden further, the erection jerking in response. She made a small noise in the back of her throat as she stared at him, so very close to her face. Instinctively, unable to stop herself, she reaching out and wrapped her hand firmly around his base, gasping at the feel of the silken iron. He threw his head back, letting out a loud groan as his hips thrust forward; her touch was maddening! "No," he said stiffly, drawing himself out of her delicious palm, his filled with something close to panic. If she touched him like that again he would lose control and take her without her understanding, and she needed to understand that once they melded together, bodies joined as one, it would be over and final; she would be his for an eternity. Not only his, but they would never be able to be apart. In order to stay planted firmly in this world, they would merge slightly, the boundaries of their minds becoming blurred and drawn together. They would hear the other's thoughts, unless shielding, and feel what the other felt. Brianna stared at him, driven hard by lust, reaching for him again, the urge to touch him overcome her every sense. "No!" he said more forcefully, taking her by the shoulders and holding her at arms' length. "Ye must not till I tell ye what is to happen! Ye feel that ye are mine and I yours, yes?" his voice was a low hiss in the dark night. "Yes," she said, staring into his eyes, her own wide with surprise and need. How could he stand there, thinking when she was going mad? "Ye feel we must join soon, or else ye will go right insane, yes?" "Yes! Yes, dammit, yes!" He nodded at this, jaw clenching. "I feel it too, Bri, but ye must agree knowing in full the terms of our joining. Ye and I will come together in more than body; our minds will be forever linked. Ye will be mine truly and I yours; nothing shall deny us each other, not even ourselves." At her blank look he gave her a little shake. "Do ye understand? Tell me ye understand!" She glowered at him fiercely, the throbbing between her legs a constant demand. "I understand, Keir! I need this! I want you! Right now!" He let out a shaky breath, his hold relaxing slightly. "Ye need to know that ye will not age past this day. Ye will live with me in the wilds until Eire is naught more, ye understand?" Eire she knew to be one of the words for Ireland in the native tongue. She nodded at him mutely, her grey eyes glassy with need, lips just barely parted. "Then ye know all ye need, and ye accept and want this?" She could have screamed at him and pounded on his chest until he agreed to have her. "I accept, I accept! I want this! I want you!" Keir smiled something fierce, a look of triumph in his golden gaze as he forced her abruptly down onto her back, one strong knee forcing her legs apart with an urgency she could only respond to. With a few quick, almost violent yanks, he had her shirt off of her and her breasts exposed to his eager, heated gaze. It was completely surreal to her! Keir, a man Brianna was sure she had been having dreams about, decides to invade her room one stormy night with the intent on claiming her, making love to her, and yet she rejoiced in the knowledge; she felt a strong connection to him that had no logic and no words to describe: it simply was. His tongue on the tip of her breast brought her back to the present as it flicked back and forth over one taut nipple. She let out a hiss of breath she hadn't realized she had been holding and cradled his slightly damp (probably from climbing up to her window in the rain) head to her as his mouth latched hungrily to her breast, sucking and pulling, his tongue flicking back and forth rapidly all the while; she could have cried at the sensation of it. His hand moved to her other breast and squeezed gently; much more delicate were his ministrations to this one than was his mouth on the other. His thumb began feathering back and forth over the nipple, drawing it into a peak before rolling it over and over again between his thumb and forefinger. Keir's free hand dipped down between her thighs and hastily tore the thin underwear off of her, leaving her form as naked as was his. She shuddered, hips bucking upwards against his in an eagerness that bordered on madness. If she didn't have relief soon, she would burn! Keir bit down on Brianna's breast in reprimand as the hand that had been disposing of her panties pushed down on her hips to still her, having to fight her struggles with little difficulty. He released her breast with a slow reluctance, his amber wolf eyes, so completely alien in his inhumanly beautiful face, locked onto her own foggy grey ones. "If ye are not still, woman," his voice was a low growl that tugged on things low in her stomach, the heat between her legs building, "I will not be able to get in ye." To emphasize his point, he pushed down on her hips, forcing her body further into the stiff mattress. She bit her lip in response, allowing him to hold her still as she tried to slow her breath from the quick pant it had been to something more stable. "Ach," he said, spine shivering in pleasure as he parted her legs further, exposing her entrance to his heavy erection, "much better." The Passion of the Storm Ch. 02 Ayden held out his arms as he stood near the railing of his little boat, rain washing upon him, drenching him as surely as the spray of the salty ocean as it leapt over the sides and onto the deck. His shoulder length hair, normally the color of spun gold, was plastered to the tan skin of his face, darkened and made heavy by the water; it had long since pulled free of the band he had used to keep it from his face. He inhaled deeply and his eyes, green and bright as jewels, snapped open to stare out at his formidable opponent, the ocean. He never should have taken the boat. He had been at sea for four hours now, tossing about helplessly for three. The engine had died and he had no idea how to fix it; it was his father's, his father who was out of the country on business, who wouldn't notice the missing boat for another week. It was Ayden's second time on a sea vessel, but it may as well have been his first; he had no idea what he was doing, or how any of the mechanisms worked. He had been thrilled to get it started, desperate to get away from the land and his life for what he thought would only be a few hours, to clear his head with the soothing rocking of the ocean. The water had been a haven to him since he was a child; nothing calmed him quite like it. He should have gone to a movie. That was a safe escape, a temporary distraction that would have done fine, and certainly had no risk of death by drowning. Even with his probable death looming close at hand, Ayden just couldn't work up a healthy dose of fear. He was too empty from earlier that day. Thinking about it again made him curl his hands into tight fisted balls and let out a curse at the furious sky as lightning peeled and thunder rocked the very air, as if in reply. He had stopped by the apartment he shared with his girlfriend of three years, Jessica, unexpectedly earlier that day. He had been saving up for the past few months so they could move out to southern California and she could start her acting career. He had quit today, and was going to surprise her with the fact that he finally had enough on what would have been his lunch break. She had been feeling ill, so she had stayed home, resting in bed. He had thought bringing such news might raise her spirits and help heal her body. Not that it had needed healing; oh, no, she had been just fine. She had been feeling well enough to be making love with who he had thought was his best friend, Jon. They hadn't heard him come into the bedroom; the door had been wide open. She obviously hadn't been expecting him. He had been stunned at first, only able to gawk silently as he watched her bouncing eagerly in Jon's lap, her large breasts jumping back and forth in an almost painful beat. Her sturdy thighs were working so hard as her lithe body strained to ride him, her back arching as she reached ever closer to her climax. Unable to restrain himself further, Jon had forced Jessica backwards onto the bed, holding her hips still as he slammed into her tight sheath over and over again. Jon's mouth captured the tip of one of her breasts, suckling as Ayden had so many times. Jessica's hand disappeared between their two bodies as they mingled, obviously rubbing herself to help bring about her orgasm. It came hard, her spine bowing upwards as a scream tore out of her lips. Jon continued shoving himself into her until he came, body trembling with the expulsion, a hoarse cry gasping forth from his panting, gaping mouth. And then Ayden had thrown his cell phone, missing Jon by inches only to crash into the bureau mirror, shattering its center and the phone alike. The two had immediately untangled themselves, Jessica white with shock, Jon's brown eyes too wide for his narrow face. Ayden had let out a scream of rage, too distraught to be bothered to form words. He had left them both, neither able to respond from the shock and horror of the moment. As he left he could hear Jessica beginning to cry and Jon trying to comfort her. He had driven aimlessly for two hours before deciding to break into his father's boat and calm himself by a ride on the ocean. The tranquil waters called to him, and he sought them once again, feeling lost and forsaken. Well, now he really was lost and forsaken. Jessica wouldn't wonder at his not returning home after that, and would be too ashamed to try to call his work to find him anyway. Not that they'd care now anyway; he'd quit without two weeks notice; and when his father returned he'd probably be more worried about the missing boat than the missing son. Ayden let out a bitter laugh as he gripped the railing, doing his best to keep his balance as a swell in the rough waves tilted the little boat. God, he had never felt so alone. His eyes filled with tears, then spilled, mingling with the salt from the ocean on his cheeks. He turned his face to the stormy heavens above, unable to get the sight of Jessica writhing beneath Jon out of his tormented mind. The thought of her tight, tan body moving so fluidly, so passionately beneath even another man's aching erection brought his own organ to life, tightening his pants despite the cold. His rage helped to fuel his arousal. He tore the buttons from his jeans in his hurry to free himself. The rain fell, drop by heavy drop, onto his growing erection, and he had to lean back against the outside wall of the cabin to remain standing. He wrapped a hand around the base of his aching member and squeezed gently. He could see Jessica's smooth, firm flesh shaking with every hard thrust from Jon; her skinny legs wrapping around the other man's waist, drawing him down, closer. Ayden could remember the way her mouth felt as it wrapped around him, sucking hard. He growled low and deep as he squeezed himself again, then began to slide his hand up and down his rain-wet penis, pumping himself eagerly. His hips began rocking with the fast rhythm, unable to remain still as he squeezed, pulled on himself hard and rough. He could hear Jessica moaning at Jon; her breasts so round and plump swaying, bouncing violently up and down, up and down. Ayden cried out in pleasure and pain as he spilled his seed into the empty air, one hand frantically stroking as the other squeezed. He could almost hear her calling out to him, 'Ayden...Ayden...' But, no! His head snapped up, jewel eyes opening wide as he searched around. He really had heard someone calling out to him! There it was again! A voice, soft but sure, traveling to him on the howling winds; it wasn't Jessica's. Hers was a little more vacant, a little coarser. This voice was soft and sweeter than the notes of a flute tickling the very air itself. "Who's there?" He cried out, hastily pulling his pants up to cover himself. His name answered him, coming from his left. He turned sharply and took too hasty a step towards that beautiful voice; his foot slipped on the wet planks and he fell, head first onto the deck. The world went black, and the last thing he felt was his entire body sliding down, down. Then there was nothing. * The first thing Ayden realized as he came to was that he was utterly naked. He tried to open his eyes, but the dull pain throbbing in his head made it nearly impossible. He gave up trying and decided to focus on what he was feeling. He was damp, not soaking as he was earlier, but not dry either. The biting cold had receded and he found himself to be moderately comfortable. He was laying on something soft and slightly squishy, like moss or seaweed. The last is what shocked him the most: he was completely stable; there was no rocking of the ocean, yet he could hear the waves crashing, echoing around him. Echoing? With a groan he forced his eyes slowly open. His vision was blurry but cleared after a moment. He found himself staring up at the inner ceiling of a craggy cave. He could hear the rain pattering outside of it, and the rush of the ocean close by. He slowly turned his head, finding he could with little pain or discomfort. Yes, the ocean intruded into the cave he lay in, the spray as it crashed on the rocks nearly reaching him. But not quite; it was as if he had been placed just far enough to not be touched by the licking tongues of the sea. Ayden tried hesitantly to sit up. He did so slowly, to not get dizzy. He discovered with gratitude he could; everything seemed to be in perfect working order; odd considering he remembered hitting his head. He reached up to examine his scalp, looking for bumps or sore spots tenderly. None. He was mildly baffled and extremely grateful. Now that the worry of injury to his head was gone, he realized with a shudder how sharply he felt the cold. His clothes were soaking wet and the air had a chill to it from the storm. He stripped off most of his clothes and laid them aside, hoping they would dry. Wearing only his boxers now, he rubbed his arms and headed towards the mouth of the cave; he had to find help or he was going to freeze to death. He carefully exited the cave, sure not to slip on the slick rocks and plummet to the ocean beside him. Ayden stepped onto the beach, turning his face up towards the sky as the rain sluiced down on his naked skin, feeling like tiny pinpricks of cold. At least the storm had lightened. He gazed out at the ocean, wondering where his father's boat could possibly be. The air had cleared; the layer of fog having lifted as the worst of the storm passed. He jolted, then rubbed his eyes to clear them. Surely he was mistaken? No! He wasn't on the mainland. There it was, a glimmer on the horizon, far, far away. He had washed onto one of the many islands just off the coast. He sank down onto the hard sand as a sense of hopelessness filled him. Most of the islands were uninhabited. And there were so many! If they sent a search party for him it would be in a few days, when his father returned; his work wouldn't miss him now that he had quit, and Jessica was gone from his life. Ayden raked his fingers through his mess of slightly wavy golden hair, tugging on the strands in fear and hopelessness. He would probably starve or die of cold before they found him; with all the islands, who knew how long the search would take? He gave a shake of his head, gritting his teeth as he stood slowly. "No," he said, his voice deep and trembling. "No," louder this time, with force. "I refuse to give up! Do you hear me, storm?! I refuse!" He spun on his heel, heading towards the dense foliage that populated the island. There had to be dry wood somewhere; he would start a fire in the cave to warm up. Then, once his clothes were dry, he'd look for food and more permanent shelter. If he were lucky he'd be able the source of the water that fed the plants; if not, well, he'd just have to gather rain water. He felt instantly better once beneath the cover of the pine trees; they offered a good deal of shelter from the rain, and he stopped shivering after only a few minutes of hiking through the wilds, the exertion pumping his blood and warming his tissue. He felt a sudden fierce sense of freedom fill him as he climbed over fallen logs, tripped up small hills and slid down the other sides, mud caking his feet and calves. There was no one here to judge him, no Jessica here to betray him, no father to push him aside. Gods, it felt amazing! Utterly alone! And then he heard it; the voice that had called to him on the boat ever so sweetly, tenderly. "Ayden...Ayden..." It was stronger now, louder than before. Curiosity mixed with his new sense of freedom made him bold; he turned towards where he thought the voice had come from and started to run. "I'm here!" he called as he slid on some mud and had to catch himself on the trunk of a tree, "Where are you? Who are you?" "I'm here," the voice called, clear as bells, yet soft, as if whispered on the wind that gently stirred the drying tendrils of his hair. "Come find me, Ayden..." "Yes," he whispered hoarsely, the feminine voice sending chills up and down his spine. His breathing was quick with anticipation as he moved through the tangle of the trees, pushing past ferns and stumbling over fallen pinecones and protruding roots. He no longer needed to hear the voice, to have it guide him; he knew instinctively where to run, where he would find what he was looking for. He nearly fell into the clearing as he tried to slow his run; his foot caught on a rock the size of his two fists and he slipped forward in the mud, tumbling head first into a bubbling pool. Warmth engulfed him, stinging his cool, slightly numb skin. Bubbles surrounded him, kissing him as they expired and popped against his flesh. His limbs moved frantically, kicking and flapping to right himself. He emerged, surfaced in a shower of silver flecks of water, head snapped back, mouth open, gasping for breath. He thought he heard a tinkle of laughter coming from somewhere nearby, but he couldn't place where. "Hello?" he coughed, having inhaled a mouthful of water. He hopped along the rocky bottom of the warm, fizzing pool, rubbing his sore foot as he reached the edge and leaned against a rock, the perfect place to recline; it was as if the rock had been hollowed out for his form alone. He closed his bright green eyes, a sudden weariness sweeping over him. "I know you're here," he mumbled softly, the gurgling water lulling him into a daze, the bubbles like a massage on every inch of his submerged body. "I heard you...calling me..." He was dreaming. Hands caressed his aching feet, soothing them, healing the small welts he had gained from running barefoot through the rocky terrain. Those glorious hands moved up to his calves, stroking with the bubbles to relax the tight muscles. They moved up and up, and he held his breath only to be disappointed as they skipped over the area he so wanted them to massage. They moved to his stomach, touching, stroking, to his chest, his shoulders and arms. Then they slid back to his chest, circling the small pink nipples, pinching them gently. Ayden caught his breath, realizing with a small shiver of pleasure and anticipation he was, in fact, awake. "Please," he said softly as the fingertips of the hands dipped down low on his stomach. He had lost his boxers somehow, and his naked member was growing more and more swollen with every heart beat; with every burst from every bubble against him. They felt like tiny mouths, kissing and sucking along the sides of his heavy shaft. "Please!" he said again, more urgently. There came that little laugh, a delighted sound that could, in itself, make him harden even more. The tip of one finger touched the very top of the head of his penis, swirling around in a circular movement. He hissed in pleasure, head falling back against the mossy rock that cradled him. She giggled again, obviously pleased at his reaction. One small hand gripped the base of his arousal, squeezing him gently, then harder and harder until she drew a moan of pleasure past his lips. She sighed in approval, then began to pump her little fist up and down along his hard rod, squeezing as her other hand continued to circle the tip of his head. The steady movement, coupled with the little bursts from the bubbles brought his hips writhing up off of the rock, and Ayden had to grip the sides of the moss beside his head to keep from floating away. When her mouth, small and oh-so tight, slid down over the very top of him he nearly came then and there. Her lips began to massage down his sides, working in time with her pumping hand; her tongue stroked him, up and down, then swirling over his head, her teeth just barely grazing here and there. If he had been in any state of mind to think, he might have wondered at her being so comfortably beneath the surface of the fizzing hot spring so long; but as it was he couldn't think enough to breathe properly himself, let along wonder at such things. A hoarse cry sprang past his lush lips as she began to suck on him. It was a gentle suckle at first, as if trying to coax milk from him tenderly; but it grew harder, more demanding with each passing moment, her teeth nipping now and again almost in punishment at his taking so very long. His hips began working with her hand and mouth, eagerly moving up and down, up and down until finally they stilled as his warm, salty seed exploded out of him, into her eager mouth and down her throat. When he finally opened his eyes, he couldn't see past the colors that seemed to be dancing wildly about in the air. Slowly the colors assumed shape, becoming trees, clouds, sky once more. He swallowed, gasping from the little aftershocks trembling through him and slowly looked down. There, in his lap, a young woman was floating gracefully. Her skin was the pale milky color of sea foam as it crests on a wave; her hair was a blond so fine it was nearly the silver color of a gentle spring rain, and it fell in damp ringlets into the bubbling water, where it splayed out like a thick curtain, ever so long and fine. Her lips were a pouting rosy bud that just begged to be kissed, nibbled and sucked until they cried out in pleasure and desire. But it was her eyes that held him; they were a swirling mass of blues and greens, as if the ocean itself resided there, surging forth through her piercing gaze, unable to decide if it was the clear green of the Pacific, or the striking blue of the Gulf. Ayden knew he could get lost in those heavenly eyes, if his gaze strayed there too long a time. He pulled himself from his light trance, and took to examining the rest of her lithe body. She was small, there was no doubt about that, but perfectly proportioned with long, slender limbs, round hips and a tiny waist. Her breasts were small but tight and high, the perfect size to fit right in his hand. Her nipples were round and pink, and at that moment were tightly beaded, probably feeling stiff and achy. She seemed just as fascinated with him as he was with her; her small fingers reached up, tracing his generous mouth, then running along his harsh, square jaw line. She cupped his face in her hands, raising up to examine his golden-tan chest, then his throat, and upwards still to his eyes, where her gaze rested a long time. "I have been waiting for you a long time indeed, Ayden Fraser," her voice was soft but strong, a voice that sounded young but spoke with a surety that comes only with years and knowledge of oneself. And there was a shadow in her eye that spoke of wisdom much beyond the years of her slender body that straddled his own so enticingly. "Who are you?" he whispered, knowing no matter what the answer, he was already lost to her. Then she smiled and it was like the sun parting the clouds and shining golden light on a beautiful world. His heart skipped a single beat, his breath caught in the back of his throat; even the water surrounding him seemed to react to her smile, the bubbles coming faster and more frequently. "I am," she began simply, pausing as if looking for the right words to describe her own being. "I am the spirit of the water; I am the heart of the spring that gurgles up from the womb of the earth to nourish the life on the surface. I am myself. I am...Undine." "Undine?" the word was familiar, and brought forth memories of college classes and literature. "You're a water elemental?" She positively beamed at him as she nodded, her arms circling his waist, cradling him to her. "I am. I am the spirit of the spring you warm yourself in now." Her voice and face became more serious as she reached up to stroke his cheek, then run her fingers through his dark golden locks. "I have waited for you, Ayden, for so long now. I was beginning to think you would never come to me." She smiled, wistfully, her ocean eyes filling with a sort of sorrow that being alone for too long can bring. His chest tightened to see the pain so raw on her face. He scooped her up close, holding her against himself, large hands stroking down her back. "I'm here now. I can't say I understand any of this, but I'm here now." The Passion of the Storm The world seemed to stop completely as he slid into her at last; she was so aroused, her body so open to him, that he had little difficulty fitting to the hilt inside of her. Their voices mingled in the night air at the feel, and the world began to spin again. Supporting himself on one elbow, he let the other toy with her breasts, squeezing, pulling and pinching until she moaned in desire. Neither having much control left, both needing so badly to ease their aches, the pace that was set was hard and fierce. Keir withdrew as quickly as he could, hips moving in nearly a blur, before he shoved himself back inside of her, his engorged erection caressing just right spot with enough pressure to make Brianna cry out every time. To help mute her growing yelps of pleasure, Keir's mouth fastened on her own, drinking down her near screams as his tongue forced its way into her mouth, stroking her own in time with his quick, sturdy thrusts. Needing some release, Brianna dragged her nails down her lover's tan back, leaving bright red welts in their wake. She could feel him inside her—growing impossibly harder and harder. She made small keening noises into his eager mouth, feeling the orgasm that had been denied for so long coming on quickly. Just...once...more... When she felt his hand move down, grabbing her breast, then sliding down, down her body, and beginning to rub her clit in viciously quick movements, she exploded right then and there. She arched, her voluptuous breasts pressing into his chest, the bowing of her spine breaking their passionate kiss. His mouth followed after her own instinctively, catching her lips just in time to stifle the scream that spilled out her mouth, and into his own. Her body's convulsion of pleasure was so powerful, it nearly knocked them both off of the bed. Her legs clamped around his waist, trying to hold him to her as his hips continued to rock inside her, the sensation almost drowned in the climax, but managing to draw it out. His pace faltered and through the thick haze of her own pleasure, she could sense he was close. She keened again, his hand still working her clit, pushing her into a second orgasm that made her limbs twitch and her mouth bite hard on his lower lip. Keir let out a hoarse cry of pleasure and conquest as he shoved himself in deep one last time, burying to the hilt, his seed spurting into her womb. Much softer now, but still hard, he began a slow and gentle humping, his hips rocking against her own, pushing down on her clitoris as his hand grabbed her hips, angling her upwards for his tender invasion. He sought out her g-spot again, and gave a grunt of satisfaction when she began keening and whimpering with pleasure as he hit it. He moved in and out in languorously slow thrusts; moving deeply in, so their bodies seemed to be welded together, then pulling back until just the head of him remained inside her. His dark head dipped, licking hungrily at one nipple, then the other. Brianna's arms locked around Keir's shoulders, her hips working with his, rubbing hard against him to stimulate her clit further. It didn't take long at all for her to throw her head back as her third orgasm took her, almost as powerfully as the first. Keir panted against her breath, now too distracted himself to lick and tease her enlarged nipples. He grunted and groaned in complete ecstasy as he came again inside her, deep in her womb, his gently humping ceasing as he tried to bury himself as deeply inside her as he could fit. It was only as they lay panting, holding each other side by side, bodies still tangled intimately together, that Brianna noticed the knocking on the door. The old, trembling voice of the inn keeper, Ms. Holly, called out, probably for the tenth time, asking if Miss Bri was alright. Biting back a laugh of surprise and embarrassment, Brianna managed to say in a decently loud (if not a little hoarse) voice that yes, she was fine, and that she was quite sorry to have disturbed her. After a brief pause, the inn keeper informed Brianna mildly that she didn't appreciate men-folk slipping in during the night and keeping the rest of the household awake with "rambunctiousness better left off for married folk". The light footsteps retreating down the hall signaled the inn-keep's departure. Keir met Brianna's eyes and grinned wolfishly as she began giggling quietly, grabbing a pillow to stifle the sound. Exhausted after such revelries, the two quickly slipped into a deep sleep that kept them safe from Ms. Holly's knocking and inquiring if the two would take breakfast with the other guests that morning; it would be hours before either would stir. But when they did finally wake, it was with excitement, each knowing their lives were about to change drastically for the rest of time; they had finally found each other, after a lifetime of seeking, and a lifetime of emptiness. It had been a grand night, indeed.