|Kisses in the Rain
Author: Ranguvar27 PM
'It's raining the first time they kiss.' A short one shot sorta prequel to my novel. The moment my two characters realize they're in love. M for language.Rated: Fiction M - English - Romance - Words: 536 - Reviews: 2 - Published: 08-27-12 - Status: Complete - id: 3053878
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
Kisses in the Rain
It's raining the first time they kiss. They had been running for shelter when the skies opened up, soaking them to the bone. Robert manages to reach the trees first, and Maeve follows. It's not as bad under here, and she takes the opportunity to wring out her shirt as best as she can. She blinks water out of her eyes and holds back a whimper of longing when Robert removes his soaked shirt. His chest is a bit hairy, with quite the multitude of scars, but it is also muscular, and she suddenly has the overwhelming urge to run her hands up and down it. She blushes when she notices Robert's looking at her, his deep green eyes seeming to pierce her very soul. And though she knows it goes against every Hunter instinct she possesses, she finds herself craving the werewolf's touch. "We...we should keep going. Rain isn't going to stop the wendigo for long."
Robert nods and starts off down the path, then comes back-and Maeve's breath is stolen from her in one hard, passionate kiss. She reels from the sheer power in that kiss, and has to fight to keep from collapsing as the rest of the world fades away. When Robert finally releases her, she is sure that hours have gone by, but it is still raining. Maeve reels, breathless, her eyes glazed over with lust. Robert smiles at her, and she stalks towards him, eyes blazing. "My turn."
The werewolf barely has time to react before she grabs the back of his neck, yanking him down for a kiss that sets off fireworks in his brain. He's kissed many, many women, but none with as much passion. He knows that she is supposed to be his enemy, and he also knows that he should hate and despise her for killing his kind. He knows.
And he doesn't give a fuck. Because this Huntress is one of the most passionate, alive, sensuous, intelligent, and all around desirable women he has ever met in his long and lonely life, and right now all he can think about is pushing her up against the nearest tree trunk and fucking her senseless. He wraps his arms around her waist, pulling her closer, and she hooks her leg around his waist. Robert moans into her mouth, and she clings to him, her fingers digging into his bare back.
A bloodcurdling scream pierces the forest, and Maeve reluctantly breaks the kiss. "We've got a job to do."
Robert curses under his breath and follows her.
The second time they kiss, it's raining again. Only this time, it's different. Maeve had nearly been killed by a pack of manticores, and Robert's relief and joy at seeing her emerge from their cave, bloodied but alive is palpable. He grabs her, kissing her as tears pour down his face and he thanks every deity he can think of that she is alive, as the rain washes the blood away.
The first time they make love, it's snowing. The wind howls, rattling the windowpanes of Maeve's bedroom as Robert takes her to heaven and back.
When she comes, her howl of satisfaction drowns out the wind.