XO [Kyros]

Lochlann's smile grew even as her fingers tightened on his throat.

It was hard to breath and her touch was starting to make him dizzy, but he let her. He could see the way her body was relaxing and if this brought her comfort, he would let her have it for as long as he could.

He wouldn't let her kill him, though. Lochlann did not want to die, even if Guinevere Haze was the one to do it.

What does it mean?

Poor, Poor Guinevere.

He was barely able to answer her. His voice sounded raw and scratched like the back of a favorite CD, but he managed to say, "What do you think it means?"

Her eyes were empty and he wanted to fill her with stories.

He wasn't going to let him kill her, but Lochlann wasn't going to fight her. Not like this.

He closed his eyes when her fingers cut off his air and he let the inability to breath wash over him like an unpleasant reminder. Spots danced at the edge of his vision. It felt like the moment of sleep right before his alarm went off, where he wanted to fight but wasn't sure if he was fighting to wake up or stay asleep. Either way, he was going to fail.

There was an implied or else in her threat and Lochlann again smiled at her.

He'd have bruises on his throat but he wasn't thinking about that.

"There's a few interpretations," Lochlann said. "He was already the best piper in the country, but why would no one listen to him? The fae gave him pipes that he thought would help him play better, but it only highlighted his failure instead. The fae didn't give him anything that could help him--he already had the skills himself."

Lochlann looked at her for a long time and then shrugged.

"The other interpretation? Don't trust the fae."

He didn't know what she wanted. He didn't know what she was getting at. Lochlann shifted beneath her. His hands were still on her hips, but he'd lost his grip considerably once she started to choke him.

"Guin," he said. "Come down here."

She leaned down, but that's not what he meant.

Lochlann sighed into her mouth, gripped her hips, and rolled.

He pulled her as he moved and pressed her body into his until they were both lying on their side. Guin's hands were still around his neck, but she wasn't ontop of him anymore. She was pressed up against his chest, and one of his arms was draped over her hips and his hand was on her butt.

It was a possessive gesture even thought no one was there to question his possession of her, or Guin's possession of him. It was just a stated fact. His body and hers.

He looked into his eyes as though he was expecting to find something there. Lochlann wasn't sure what he found, but he caught her bottom lip between his and placed a kiss to her mouth.

"I want to hold you," he told her. "I can't do that when you're on top of me."

He gave her a pointed look. He was wondering if he was going to have to persuade her into it by saying I asked to use your body, Guin, and I didn't mean with just my cock. He kept his mouth shut for now.

Lochlann sighed, and then she stole his breath from him. Despite the fact that she was strangling him, he was more annoyed that she bit him on the lip.

His throat was raw and sore from where she was grabbing it, and when she made an attempt to strangle him a second time, Lochlann slid his hand from butt up around the curve of her leg and to her cunt.

He stroked her through her panties. He circled her clit and pushed the wet fabric back up against her skin. Lochlann wanted her to feel what they'd created.


So that's all.

She was asking him questions but not waiting for the answer. He stroked her harder while she choked him. Spots danced at the edge of his vision and Lochlann realized that was getting angry.

Her actions made no sense.

She was lashing out at him, but Lochlann had the strange sensation that she was really trying to lash out at herself. She was acting like he felt before he took a drink.

Of course, it could just be because he was on the verge of passing out.

He slid one finger under the edge of her panties while he stroked her with his other fingers and then, without hesitation, he slid it inside of her. He hoped her cunt was still raw. He hoped he could stay conscious enough to see this through.

'Guin," he whispered, but he wasn't sure if the sound even came through his throat or if he just mouthed her name.

Her hips jerked up against his hand and spurred him onward. He knew it would hurt her, but he didn't care, because Lochlann knew he could make it feel good for her.

He hadn't planned on fucking like he had earlier. That was something she stole from him, along with his carefully made-up plans.

She moaned when he slid a finger inside of her. Lochlann's coaxing grew stronger even as her fingers on his throat grew weaker. Good. This is what he wanted.

He would take Guin's hands on his throat any day of the week. He would let her stab him and shoot him and hurt him, even if he would hate her for it. He would let her do all of this, because there had always been a passion behind it, some kind of drive.

He would not let her do it with her eyes looking vacant like they had before.

He slid another finger inside her. His thumb was still outside of her panties, circling and pressing up against her clit. He moved his entire hand in tangent with her body, as though by doing this he was driving her to move. He knew that some of the wetness in her cunt was residual, and Lochlann didn't care. He used this to lubricate his fingers into a steady rythm of thrusts.

She dipped her head and she was asking him the question he'd wanted to her. Her grip was weak enough that Lochlann reached up with his other hand and placed it ontop of hers. He lifted the fingers from one of her hands and slowly slid them into his mouth, sucking on them even as he fucked her with his hand.

Finally, Lochlann gave her an answer, but it was the one he wanted. The Welsh slid from his lips like a promise.

"Because you're mine."

It was the sounds she made that did it for him. The soft, wet sounds of his fingers thrusting into her cunt, the little cries she tried to stifle by biting her bottom lip, and the way his own breath came in uneven rhythm all conspired against him. He was hard again.

He was hoping that her hands would loosen on her throat, but they gripped him harder and he felt his gasp dying in his throat. But, Guin was the one gasping for air, and this pleased him.

It'd worked.

Lochlann pried her hands from his throat while she gasped and mouthed what looked like cursewords at him. He held her hands in his one hand, his palms curled around the top while he panted and gasped. He coughed a few times, too, but it didn't numb the pain in his throat.

He'd wanted to enjoy the first time he said those words to her unprovoked.

Instead, he'd used them just so he could get a few minutes to breath.

Lochlann didn't want to give her too long to recover. He climbed ontop of her and pushed her thighs apart with his knees. Lochlann grabbed her hands and held them above her head with one hand, but his grip was still weak. She'd be able to break out easily and he knew it. With his other hand, Lochlann slowly pried her sopping panties away from her cunt and pulled them down her legs. He claimed them like a prize and then he pressed his cock to her slit, but he didn't enter her. He just rubbed the opening until he was slick with her.

"Guin," he growled. "That was good, but you're going to have to do that again with me inside you. It's going to hurt, but only for a little, I promise."

He pressed his lips to hers but he still didn't take her. He wanted her to know that he was doing to her exactly what she'd just done to his throat. He didn't understand her motives, but he knew what his were.

Right?

This was just.....

What where his motives with Guinevere Haze?

"What just happened?"

"You came for me, Guin," Lochlann said.

He'd no sooner finished the words when Guinevere arched just enough to push him inside of her. She cursed and moaned and her hips moved as though of their own accord. Her eyes had been wild before she'd closed them and now she said his name, begging him.

He answered her with a slow thrust.

It was hard for him to breath. Every intake and every exhale stung his throat. It hurt when he swallowed. It hurt when he wanted to speak to her, so he didn't. He just thrust into her, rotated his hips, and thrust again.

He did not drill into her like he had before. This was a slow, controlled fuck. He'd already had her screaming and coming on him harder than he'd ever felt before, and Lochlann did not want to match that. He wanted to savor that memory for some time before he attempted to do that to her again.

He wasn't trying to hurt her, but he knew this would ache. She'd come how many times now? Lochlann tried to do a quick count. The alley, the first one on the bed, the one when he'd touched her, the one when he'd fucked her, and that last one he'd just stolen. Could she take another? He hoped so.

He was so, so pleased with her. He was so, so angry with her.

His fuck conveyed this to her. He arched his back and lowered his mouth to her breast. He sucked the tip into his mouth with hard, greedy movements and then tugged on it hard. He pulled away, tilted, and repeated the process on her other one, forcing her nipples to harden for him.

She was his. He told her this with every thrust. She might be his god and own his body and soul, but she was his. In this moment, she belonged to him.

Reluctantly, Lochlann let go of her hands. He tangled one of his hands in her hair and tugged at it to tilt her head to the side. He kissed her jawline and said, "Why are you doing this to me, Guin?"

He loved and hated every moment of this fuck. Lochlann pushed into her and felt her body writhe under his. He pushed into her again and forced her body down into the mattress, telling with without words that there was no escape from this.

When she breathed his name, Lochlann rewarded her without thinking. His thrust was perhaps too hard and too deep, but after that one movement Lochlann rotated his hips and angled himself so he was pushing down into her. He wanted to just tease that spot inside of her.

"Good," he whispered to her after she'd said his name. "You're so good,, Guin. I can't ever get enough of you and your insatiable cunt."

Every moan betrayed her to him. He could see her trying to lay still beneath him, but Lochlann wouldn't let her. When she tried, he'd put his hands somewhere on her body and touch her, stroke her, pinch her, whatever he needed to force her to stay in this moment.

He gripped her hair in his hand and held it tight, not letting her move her head. He didn't force her to look at him, but he did force her to remain trapped under his body while he palmed her breast and kissed down and around her neck.

Lochlann sucked the skin on the sensitive spot where her neck met her shoulder, pulling it taught into this mouth. He didn't just want to leave a mark this time.

Lochlann bit down and squeezed her breast at the same time.

It wasn't hard enough to draw blood, but it was hard enough to bruise. He kissed back up her neck as though he was going to do that to her again and again to recreate the bruises she'd had that night in the hospital, but he didn't. He was back to touching her like she would shatter in his hand and he was afraid to cut his palms on the pieces

Her hands came to her sides and Lochlann almost wanted to grab them before she could hurt him again, but he didn't. Her body was responding to his by relaxing and he kept coaxing it with his own. He didn't want submission, but he wanted something close.

He didn't know how to answer her question. Lochlann gave a frustrated sigh that escaped through the cage of his teeth like a hiss of steam.

He didn't want to kill her, but he would never tell her that. He could not let her know just how badly she needed him.

"Because of this," Lochlann said. "I'm not done making you come for me."

The words escaped his mouth before he realized it:

"Because I missed you."

He couldn't let this be about anything other than the sex. Lochlann groaned and tried to regain control, even though he was losing with the more relaxed and supple her body became.

"I am not going to kill you until you wake up with your fingers in your cunt and your mouth ghosting my name in the night. I am not going to kill you until you've woken up and realized you can't get through the day without feeling my cock inside you. You are far too delicious to consume quickly, Guinevere."

It was a lie. It was the truth. He didn't even know. He just kept fucking her and wished that he could lie to her with his body. He wished that his anger hadn't made him tender towards her. He wished that everytime he pushed himself inside her, it didn't just feel good, Lochlann wished it didn't feel like it was destined. He'd never had a lover like this before and Lochlann tried to pretend that's all this was about.

He loved the way she growled when he bit her, and when she writhed and clenched at him with her cunt he wanted to hurt her again. But he didn't, especially because she'd told him don't stop.

If he was drunk, it would be easier to justify his misinterpretation of the words, but the truth was that Lochlann wanted to torture her. She had been torturing him for so long that he'd forgotten what it felt like to wake up without the memory of her voice haunting him.

Her hands were over her face, but her back was arching. Lochlann didn't stop. He was relentless in their consummation. His hands never left her body, and his touch was so painfully tender. He touched her like he'd touch a ghost apple and looked for the bruises.

She begged him to kill her. Lochlann laughed at her and slowed his pace even further, drawing this out as long as he could.

"Oh no, Guinevere," Lochlann said. "You haven't come nearly enough for me yet. I told you I was going to use your body tonight. I'm not finished with you, yet."

He panted and kissed up her elbows and the flat of her arm. He assaulted her with his tenderness, and brushed the hair from her face, and let her keep her face covered with her hands.

Sex was a weapon, but it was double edged.

It was the only thing Lochlann had in this relationship, if it could be called a relationship, but everytime he cut her with it, he cut himself just as hard. He hated how easily the tenderness came to him, he hated how he was afraid of her. His throat still burned and the bruises across it would be darkening and becoming visible soon. She'd marked him again.

He arched his back and brought his face down to her breasts again, and this time Lochlann wasn't gentle. He sucked and licked them and drew his teeth over her delicate skin to leave marks where she'd see them everytime she showered until they faded. He wanted her to think of him as the water ran over her skin.

The last few times they'd fucked, Lochlann had wanted to take her hard enough that she'd ache to walk, but now he wanted her confined to this bed.

"After you come for me and I fill you again, I'm going to touch you," he warned her. "We are going to do this until the sun comes up. You're going to have to take it, Guin, but you're so good at this, you can do this, Guin."

He pressed himself flat against her, resting up by his elbows, and Lochlann put his hands over hers. He let her keep her face covered, but he traced every groove and ridge on her hands while he pushed into her. He wanted to memorize this. She'd burned herself into his mind, but whenever she had, she left out the details like this.

Lochlann thought of her as perfect, as his god, but he loved the secrets of her hands.

Lochlann was more than willing when she rolled him. He was delighted that she was returning to him, taking some initiative, and even more pleased that she was capable of performing the sexual gymnastics to keep him inside of her.

Oh yes, Lochlann was very pleased with having Guinevere Haze as a lover.

Of course, he was still also pissed, and hurt, and horny as hell. His throat ached and now that he was on the bottom an her hands were free he felt a momentary gunshot of anxiety shoot through his skull that she might try and strangle him again.

Instead, her hands were on his chest, forcing him into the mattress. She was so small it was amazing that she had any force behind her, but she knew just the place to pin him down.

He watched her through half-lidded eyes. His lips were parted and his hands were on the side of the bed, a mirror of Guin before she'd flipped him.

"I like this," he told her. He was watching her breasts sway and the long curve of her neck when she tilted her head back. When she adjusted her position so she was sinking onto him, Lochlann shifted to watch his cock disappear inside of her. The shiver down her back was from the delightful pressure on that spot, but for Lochlann, the shiver down his spine was from how delightful the visual was.

Her movements became faster and harder, and Lochlann was surprised. She was muttering nonsense and this pleased Lochlann, so he arched his hips and pounded into her.

"Fuck yes," she sighed, looking back down at him. Her eyes gleamed with delight. This was so much better. She was his master. "Isn't this better, Lochlann?"

The gleam in her eye spurred him on, and now Lochlann slid his hands up her thighs and to her hips.

"Fuck, Guin," he panted. The rapid change in pace was sending pleasure rushing over him in dizzying waves. He felt like he was caught unaware out at sea. Lochlann forgot he could breath water. He forgot he could breath at all. He closed his eyes and let her take him to hell and back.

"This is better," he agreed, letting her have this victory. He paid close attention to her body, ready to whisper those words to her when she broke on him. "You feel so good, Guin."

He groaned, grasping onto her hips, trying to slow her movements or at least let him ride out this high a little bit longer.

She was taking his from him, he realized. She was taking it the same way he took it from her, but that was okay, because in the end, Lochlann would give her anything if she asked for it.

What the hell had this woman done to him? Who the hell was she?

"Guin," Lochlann gasped her name. "Guin, Guin, I...."

I don't want this night to end.

"I want more from you, Guin," Lochlann growled. "If this is better, prove it to me."

Of course, this ignored the fact that he'd just agreed with her, but Guin was drawing something strange from him. Why did she have this sort of affect on him? Why couldn't he get her out of his head, his dreams, his waking nightmares?