Luc settled Amy on his lap and plucked the cool silver fork from her fingers. He offered her another bite to share, another kiss, then began undoing the buttons of her blouse. A lacy green bra pushed the perfect mounds of her breasts up towards him, her taut nipples almost spilling from the thin fabric.
"My new favorite color." He growled and pushed the cups down to better caress them, one at a time. He eased her blouse down her shoulders and dropped it on the rug, taking time to fully enjoy the journey over her breasts that he had so horribly rushed through in the meadow. Luc took a swipe of icing from the cake and drew a sticky circle of chocolate around her areola. His hot, wet tongue fed on sweetness of her stiff peak. She trembled, then moaned when he took her aching nipple into his mouth.
His lips trailed back to her neck, spread toe curling kisses along her jawline, once again causing her to gasp. Luc skimmed his hands down to cup her firm ass, carefully avoiding the rivets in her jeans. He felt the tiny bits of cold metal near his skin and winced, then nipped her ear to get her attention.
"While these modern clothes are sexy as hell, they've got to go. No more metal buttons for you, cherie."
"Strip for me, or I'll send your pants to wherever things go when I really, really hate them." He limbered his fingers to vanish her favorite low rise jeans to the bottom of a sea trench, just before Amy jumped from his lap.
"I'm so sorry, I didn't hurt you with the metal, did I?" She took several steps from him before she toed off her sneakers and socks.
"I am unhurt, but running out of patience." He raised one eyebrow at her pants. Amy answered back with a sultry grin. She turned around, swayed her hips, and began a slow bump and grind while easing her blue jeans down and all the way off. Her panties, a mere scrap of lace between her smooth, round buttocks, made him groan out loud.
Pushed past temptation, Luc had enough of watching her. He glided close to her, taking in her aroused scent and nearly naked body. The lace panel between her legs was soaked with her desire for him. He lifted her onto the edge of the dining table, pushed her knees apart to make room for his shoulders, and looked into her eyes.
Amy snagged a finger full of frosting and daringly drew a line from her inner thigh upwards, to where the pad of Luc's thumb brushed small, heated circles on her panties. She unclasped her bra and threw it in the general direction of her jeans, the allowed her head to drop back.
"You know I did. I really do love this cake." Then his tongue was on her. His lips, his teeth, nipping and licking and sucking from the sensitive inside of her leg to the apex of her thighs. He breathed in the most personal smell of her, one only a lover can know, and banished the last barrier between them.
Look you long and never so deep. No, she begged silently to her inner voice. Not now. I know what you are going to say. No soul will look forth to meet your gaze. Stop! Please, focus on something else. Think about anything else, Amy pleaded with herself. Sean's placid voice continued in her head, like a single ice cube ran along her neck. The twisting path of the trickle of fear, briefly consumed in the fire of lust. There is no gleam of love, no tear of sorrow. The words crashed into her delicate emotions, the hateful brick of truth smashed the window to her heart. Luc could not love her without splitting her in half.
The thought of it forced her next breath out in a hiss of pain. When he tired of her, she would die, having truly known only his touch, loving only him as long as she lived. It would have to be enough, she assured herself. Luc's mouth on her was heat and passion, electric shock and trembling. His silver blond hair caressed her thighs. His bare hands glowed faintly under the heated power transfer.
Amy whimpered and felt the trembling rise to a force she could not withstand. Agony. Pleasure. Was there a difference? Her whole body unraveled when she spoke his name.
He knew he was naked, tucked under his down comforter on his sea sponge mattress. He was holding something very warm, and very soft, that smelled like cake and sex. Luc felt a strong tugging in his chest tell him to bury his face in the warmth, so he pulled her into a tighter embrace and nuzzled her hair.
So warm. So Amy. Rays of sunlight brightly lit the cottage through it's small windows. They filled his heart as well, with a burning emotion as bright and hot as the rays; an emotion he couldn't name. She made a satisfied sound in her sleep and put her arm around him.
She promised the whole day to him, for her introduction to magic. Luc needed her to start with a solid breakfast or she was doomed to fall flat on her face in the circle later. It always happened to a new student. Magic is a difficult path. Once begun, a lesson must be finished before the student can rest properly. Foolish young ones always took on more than they could handle before they learned to rest between lessons.
Her breathing changed as she woke. She opened her eyes, warm brown inches from liquid blue. His breath warmed her face as he leaned in for a gentle morning kiss.
"It is time for breakfast, but I am not sure I want to let you out of bed."
"Very funny. I'm starving, and I need a change of clothes. I'll get breakfast at home." She kissed him again before he threw back the covers.
"The faster you go, the faster you will be back. We have much work to do." He decided not to watch her dress, but even the sound of that rough fabric sliding up her soft legs caused him to ache. "You are not to wear metal studded pants for magic practice," he warned, trying not to think of the way those awful human jeans formed like a second skin to her rounded hips.