nikclettes:
nikolette had never thought much of the baroque, often seemingly empty words in which poets used to describe their emotions, but it was in every heated glance, every cherishing caress from valerio that she thought that maybe they weren’t as foolish as she’d first thought. she hadn’t believed in affection beyond the physical, beyond that of which could be taken and given with one simple touch. she had barred herself from fanciful notions, shunned even the idea that they could apply to her. she’d seen far too often the hearts of people she knew get thrown about haphazardly, the fickle, hollow endearments exchanged leaving a horrible ringing in her ears. love was a lie, she’d thought, useless in it’s complete idiocy. but then he’d thrown every misconception she had to the floor, smirking as he stole her heart from her chest. it had terrified her, frozen the blood in her veins as he so casually carried it with him, taunting her at every turn how terribly he owned her. but he hadn’t mistreated it, not completely. sure, he’d squeezed it, held it so tightly she was sure it would burst in his palm, but even when she was sure she could no longer take the pain of his grip, he held it close to him, keeping it from shattering completely. it took her some time to come to terms with the glaring truth that valerio knew she was made of sterner stuff than she realized. he’d known that her heart was no tender thing, not so easily crushed. and sure, it was cruel to test its limitations, but he’d known no one had the power to break her, not even him. her strength was in her resilience, in her refusal to even bend when told to break. and even now she knows he still holds it, knows that no longer is it a part of her he took, but one she’d offered him. and she knows that his belongs to her, knows that she’d torn his from his chest at the same moment he’d taken hers. she’d left claw marks on his skin that only she could see, jagged, hungry scars that made her chest seize. she can see it in the haze of lust in his eyes and in the ferocity in the way he gripped her — as if she’ll never be close enough.
and she understood him, knew only too well the desperation, the complete and utter aching to hold someone so close that your edges blur together, colors bleeding into each other until you can’t tell where one begins and the other ends. she wants to consume him, wants him to possess her until there’s nothing left of their of them without the other, until only the memory of them together is all that remains. she loved him, but the word seemed empty, too trivial to fully express the weight of the emotion inside of her. it seemed silly, now, that she’d been so afraid to use it before, to call it what it was when now they’d gone so far beyond it. no, she didn’t love him if to love was simply to cherish, simply to care for, simply to adore. she only loved him if to love was to embody, to devour, to devastate. and she knew he loved her the same — the knowledge giving her more power than she ever thought possible. he loved her and she couldn’t understand why she hadn’t seen it before. for someone who prided herself so highly on her ability to read people, to read valerio, she felt a sort of vexation for being too distracted by his smokescreen to see the truth behind it. he loved her to ruins and it was the most wonderful feeling. he proved it wit every flicker of his eyes as they’re trained on hers, their depth never ceasing to overwhelm her completely; she’s lost once again and she’d be more than happy never to be found again. he proves it with every deliberately delicate brush of his fingers on her skin, every small movement, every minute deepening of his touch tugging her nerves into action, electricity dancing beneath her skin. never had she shivered so much in a warm room than when valerio’s hands worked her as only they could. he proved it as she felt him harden beneath her, the air in her chest catching at the slight friction she’d yearned for.
she watched him as he moved his hand from her body to his mouth, feeling empty at the loss of his fingers after so long, only for him to promise her exactly hat she desired without even a word. every cell in her body shuddered as his lips wrapped around her taste on his fingers. his eyelashes cast spidery, dancing shadows on his cheeks as they flutter to a close and she feels as if she’s caught fire. she couldn’t form a single coherent thought without the image of him between her thighs, be it his long fingers or that wicked mouth, she found herself devastated and so terribly desperate for him. she shifted in his lap, her hips flush against his, her breath stuttering in her chest and her fingers curling into his hair. she could lie with him for hours, days, weeks and never tire of the feel of him, never tire of both being devoured and doing the devouring. she wanted him in the most feral of ways, wanted every inch of his body, his mind his soul and she was growing impatient. when his eyes opened again, scorching in their lust and desire, she swore he’d never looked at her the same. there was knowledge now, rather than the questions that used to swim there. he knew how absolutely he owned her and, impossibly, she found herself falling deeper into the bottomless recess of her devotion to him. a soft, desperate sound escaped her throat as he kissed her again, her taste on his tongue enough to make her see stars, the obscenity eliciting her hips to move of their own accord even as his fingers gripped hard enough that she’d gladly wear the evidence of his touch on her skin as long as the bruises lingered. and he lifted her, solidifying himself as her anchor, her only sense of gravity keeping her from floating away completely. his lips may have softened, leaving small, tender promises on her mouth, but his grip told another story all together. she doesn’t have time to lock her legs around him before her back makes contact with the hideous, plush carpeting, her hair fanning across the garish reminder of her gilded cage.
her eyes followed his ever movement, hungry as they took in every slope and valley of his muscles, every shadow on his skin, every piece of him her memory hadn’t done justice. it was almost painful as she resisted the urge to touch him, to claim his every inch once again, but she held her hands by her head, her chest rising and falling in quick, steady succession the longer they gazed at each other. the muscles of her stomach contracted as his hand made contact again, his skin scorching on hers. her eyelids were heavy as he removed her boots and peeled the pants from her body, leaving her in nothing but sheer black lace. his fingers left a trail of fire as they moved slowly across her inner thighs, and her breath quickened as he leaned over her, their eyes locked in a mesmerizing pool of lust. when he touched her again, when his hand slipped inside her underwear, she exhaled in a rush, her eyes fluttering closed in the haze of pleasure coursing through her body. her fingers lost their battle and gripped his bare shoulders, her nails digging into his skin as her neck arched and her lips parted, his menstrations between her legs agonizingly slow and calculated in driving her wild. she whimpered in protest as he released her again, but she hadn’t much time to complain before his touch returned tenfold, easily coaxing a gasp from her lips. she couldn’t focus for more than a moment on any one thing — his teeth softly scraping her neck, his fingers working inside of her, his thumb in the most delicious spot, his tongue leaving cold patches in its wake. being with valerio had always been overwhelming, but this was a completely different sensation in that every brush of his mouth was a promise, a vow of love and adoration that he’d never given before. it was clear that even as he ruined her for anyone else, even as he took absolute possession over her that never was it anything but devotion he meant to give her. and finally, finally, she opened her eyes to find him kneeling before her, dedicating all that he had into bringing her pleasure and she nearly falls from the peak in that moment. her toes curled and her knees bent as her stomach tightened, as her chest heaved every laborious breath, as his free hand pressed into her thigh to keep her from closing them around his fingers. her lips tremble with the effort to keep in her cries and her back arches as the feeling intensifies as he whispers in her ear, her palms flat on his skin until his tongue slide back into her mouth, until he swallows her first cry of pleasure. her fingers are curled into his shoulders, her hips writhing against his hold as she breaks from the kiss, his name a prayer and a curse on her tongue. she refuses to finish now, refuses to make it so easy for him to unravel her. tangling her fingers in the hair at the back of his head, she pulls him to her until she can whisper in his ear, her lips and tongue brushing his skin lightly as she shakily replies, “ you first. ”
the sun streaked in soft rays through the stain glass of the hundred year old window, starting to set and teasing different hues of color along the carpet and over the ivory of nikolette’s skin, soft pinks and butterscotch yellows that painted against her petite frame and made him feel like he was a part of a real life fairy tale. the blue of her eyes was brilliant, blinding in their clarity, her lids heavy as she stared at him, watching each and every one of his ministrations between the dark web of her lashes. he was clinging to every tremor he felt ripple beneath her skin, committing it to memory as his mind raced to keep up, desperate to remember ever single facet of this as time slipped away like water cupped in his large hands. because this was it -- this was everything and he felt like an addict, thinking about his next high before he was done with the first, so caught up in the idea that this may be the last time that he was breathless with it. she was the song he never wanted to stop listening to, the story he never wanted to end -- valerio had never been so desperate to hold onto something, to someone, in his entire life, and he felt it like an all consuming presence, threatening to stifle him with it’s weight and promising retribution if he failed to maintain his already unsteady grasp on what he felt.
he was in the presence of the future that he could have had. if he would have let her in, if valerio would have told nikolette how he truly felt when the time was right, he could have had everything that was now crumbling in front of him, and it was like water slipping through his cupped hands -- inevitable and unyielding. because even now, with his lips pressed to her skin, he could taste the promise of what it would be like to truly have her. a mere fantasy, but one he was unwilling to forfeit in the light of reality. it was easier to pretend, to act like this was all a stalemate, that eventually, in time, he would have her. the feat was much simpler when he viewed it as such, and though it left him gasping for breath every time he awoke to the living nightmare that was being without her, he could calm his breathing with the thought of being with her just like he is now, whole and free and so hopelessly intertwined in everything that she was. it was in his meetings, whether it be in the company of global ambassadors or just those that made up his inner circle that he would recalled the spill of her honeyed hair between his fingers, smooth like silk and fine like gossamer, emitting a fragrance that was duly intoxicating as it was devastating. he’d think about what it would be like to have her for real, not a pretty thing dangling from his arm but his equal, his confidant, his partner that helped him rule with grace and diplomacy, the catalyst that would bring out the very best of him where it rested dormant within. and for that alone he would be grateful, if underserving; valerio would be lucky to have even a fraction of what he desired, a man who was beyond blessed if he would be able to share a life with her. it could be anything from shared whispers, pillow talk consisting of foreign affairs or rendezvous’ in his sprawling study, speaking filthy words in their native tongues as they unraveled each other bit by bit. valerio wanted it so badly, so wholly, that he was sure that it would consume him.
he’s again buoyed to the surface of his long time suffering as her nails make contact with his skin, a resounding hiss leaving his lips as she trails them along his back in response to everything that he had done, and he allowed himself to momentarily revel in all that she was. she epitomized debauchery, in the parted pink of her lips and the rise and fall of her chest with every drawn breath; he knew that she was nothing if not a masterpiece, something to view with awe and envy, something that he wanted so desperately for himself that he was unable to have. and in the end, he decided that he would only continue wanting -- for as long as he lived, valerio could see no means to and end; it was futile to believe, to have ever believed, that he could exist without her. she was his end and his beginning, his salvation and his awakening, and his heart beat harder in his chest as each moment brought them closer to what he couldn’t help but to think would be their last. because as much as he wished it were, this wasn’t his castle, wasn’t his wife -- he was no one in this kingdom but a visitor who had outstayed his welcome, and he felt like he could hear the sand falling in the hourglass that was timing their reunion, an incessant reminder of their limited window to do what they did best. as she pulls him close, another pulse of arousal leaves him greedy, a feral beast stirring within as she whispers against his ear, her words poised and sharp, an arrow making way for his weary heart. and he falls privy to that want, to the desire that’s been unearthed in her presence since the day they laid eyes on each other. valerio was a king only willing to obey a command from the woman beneath him. so in light of her own repressed release he moves out of her grip for a moment, retreating to only then return for a stolen kiss. his lips brush against hers in another vow, a kiss so unlike the countless others they had shared. it was lingering, intent, his tongue slow before she invites him in, brushing against hers before he finally pulls away once more. in his haste, he remains graceful, and the undoing of his belt only serves as a minute obstacle as he does as she requested. his own chest is heaving, not from exertion, but instead the weight that he feels pressing against his airway in light of all that he wishes to tell her. because yes, he wants her, but how does one say that you want to share life, to experience it’s ups and downs, its hills and valleys, all with her by his side? a master of language rendered speechless when the time really matters, and his unsteady fingers are indicative of this uncommon ground in which he toes across with such care.
as he finally undoes his belt, he releases a ragged breath, and it takes everything he is not to allow himself to lose it right then and there, at the mere idea of what they’re doing -- defiling the entirety of the union that was bennett and nikolette, bidding adieu to all the cares they may both have possessed once in light of the nature of their respective countries, of the world they’re duly trying to rebuild. it was enough to spur him on, and he gets lost, for a moment, admiring the beauty that emanates from every facet of her being, but also the adoration that threatened to choke him as his warm hues surveyed her. she was nothing but soft skin, supple beneath his touch and graciously accepting everything he offered. she was all soft, pitched breaths and stifled whines that she threatened to emit in hopes of preserving her vulnerability, and it just made him want to unravel her that much more, to have her trembling in his grip and to only be able to speak his name. it’s with ease that he rids himself of the confines that are only aiding in stopping his attempt to fuse with her completely, and in moments he’s back above her, both hands anchored on either side of her, fingers tangled in the hair that was splayed on the carpet beneath them. in a few, careful, steady strokes, he eases his way into nikolette, his hips rocking at an impossible rhythm that he can only exercise in moments like this, his restraint tangible in the air between them as he does his best not to hurt her. and for a moment his mind blanks, like a system going offline, it’s so good that he feels weightless, his limbs light and his heart lighter, like he could float away at any moment. and once his hips touch her own as he bottoms out, tension releases him in a strangled sound, uninhibited and completely honest, so raw and rough that even he is a stranger to it’s origin. and for a few more moments his brain catches up, his body reveling in what it’s like to yet again be sheathed in tight, wet heat, and he feels overwhelmed all over again. valerio forces himself to stay steady as he slowly pulls out, almost all the way, and thrusts back into her, harder than before. another half dozen times he does this, equally slow, but deeper and rougher with each shift of his hips. and then he kisses her, finally, and seconds are hours, days, weeks --- it’s nothing but them and their lips, the way they fit and slide together with such utter perfection that it makes his heart flare and burn out like a spent bulb, weak in the presence of her being. it’s against her lips that’s he whispers, ‘you’re everything.’ the truest words he’s ever spoken, in a language they both speak, so there’s no mistake. he thrusts into her again this time, with no restraint, and another strained sound leaves him, his breath fanning against her lips. ‘i love you. i’m dying without you.’ and the words keep coming, and it’s like a faucet, pouring out everything he’s ever thought and simplifying it in a way his hazy brain can communicate. ‘i love you.’ he says again, and he can’t help but look at her, leveling his gaze with shocking blue. ‘you’re everything to me.’
