harley westward

Here we are in the heart of the darkness

Harley had found those threads he had kept so well hidden, careful to keep them well within his control and yet she found and plucked them anyways. Desire was like removing a block from a dam before the whole thing blew. How many times had he been the one to draw hers out to play... The last time had left her gasping for air only to be denied that sweet oxygen. Her body and mind seemed to remember it, impossible a thing to forget and now somehow within the strange events of today she saw that she wasn't the only one affected. She had peeled his shirt from him, surprised that she hadn't tore it away. This new dance of theirs seemed to be a controlled one. It was easy to get lost in that moment, it would have been easy... and yet it was truly an art form to prolong it. To feel every touch, listen to every sound. To feel your heart about to beat out of its chest. To be ever aware to feel the nuance of desire that Matteo wielded with expert ease and yet now she could feel him toying with her. Allowing her mind to run rampant with possibility. Would he simply just push her against that table and take her here. He had claimed he wished to savour her and yet she could not deny how it would feel to finally unleash those tamed desires. How he managed it she hardly knew. Her own body longed to riot against it. Yet it felt far from it now... how she wanted his fingers to grasp her firmly to consume her in any way a man could consume a woman. If there was any question of what he felt in that moment it was struck down then and there when she peeled off her own shirt. His silvery eyes rove over her now exposed form. The dimly lit room did nothing to conceal her, between the moonlight and the faint glow from the kitchen. How very alive she felt. He seemed to savour the sight of her. Revel in it.. How she was certain one glimpse and he would have been on her and yet... in true Matteo fashion he had a mind of his own. Anticipation was like a living creature here and now.

Surely he would not leave her hanging desperately on a limb for his touch. How she wanted the heat of his body and fortunately he hardly seemed willing to torment her forever even though it felt like an eternity for him to cross those boundaries. He crossed that distance before he pulled her into body, manoeuvred her to gently rest against him, his toned body felt against her exposed back enough to make her nearly shudder. Did he want her to beg? She surely would not. In fact, she had every intention of returning the favour of that blatant want. For a moment they seemed to revel in the sensation of that very closeness. That hold she had been neglected for so long and yet if her body wasn't crying out for more... she could have found comfort within it. His chin rested upon the ledge of her exposed shoulder his words seem to caress her very skin. That position transformed into a dance of sorts. His hands skimmed across her body not allowed her exposed half to not be neglected in the... slightest and yet. That was not where she craved his touch. He claimed it was one of many of his favoured positions. How that thought ignited a ravenous curiosity to explore them. Her imagination grasped firmly and running away with her. How the explicit thought of him in various positions seemed to sprout within her mind... how her body seemed to crave it. If he could glimpse into her mind... it wouldn't just be her breast he fondled. His words felt like they were laced with potential... his accented voice she swore triggered nerve endings to places that were far from exposed. Finally his hands travelled lower to where she wanted him. That anticipation was like a well fed fire.

His hands travelled below the hem of her pants and yet knowingly he went everywhere. She pressed into him, her hips rolling into him as if continuing that dance he had initiated and yet denied her all the same. It was like he knew how to almost press that button, skimming just around it.

He would be her undoing.

Yet... his words were a promise that held far too much in one mere word. Never had the word yes possessed such a heady want that he seemed to pull from her, like a heavenly note from an instrument she instinctually knew he knew how to play. If his hand had moved just a little bit more, if his fingers grazed just a little.. She drew in a sharp inhale. She would have done anything in that moment and yet... how she wanted to see his own resolve slip just a little more. How reluctant her figure slipped away from his, taking back that control in her own way. How she nearly hissed out a curse at herself. Matteo watched her with that impish gleam, that was so very much him. That banter seemed to continue even though for once she wanted his mouth to be doing something else. It was a distracting thing.But then again everything about him was distracting. All she wanted was to lose herself in him. In that very moment where nothing else existed. Her lush lips quirked into her own teasing smirk, as she accused him of sex magic. Even turned on she could not resist.

"I suppose what you or I am.. Really doesn't matter. French... celtic... druid.. Fae.. Does it matter? We all need the same and very much alive." Perhaps that in itself was all they needed. That offer of where they should go to eat cake... seemed so... casual.. Like they were merely making an observation or having a conversation. How easy her lips began to form the words, here.. Now. Yet maybe that banter in itself was like foreplay, the man could not hide the desire that assaulted his own figure that not even his jeans could hide.

Ah.. but here and now... seemed so cliche. She tasted the whipped cream she had coated upon her fingers, cleaning off every bit of it like she were imagining something else. She could see his gaze watch every last movement. Could see the anticipation in his own eyes as she moved toward him. Her feet were soft against the floor, as she moved. She was always a woman who knew exactly what she wanted. Even though she felt entirely.... Out of practice in this... it seemed almost natural with him. His hand reached to gently grasp her own. His long fingers easily entwining before slipping forward to lead. Who knew where they would end up with her leading the way. Some closet? The bathroom? There were several turns before they reached another damn staircase. They must have travelled down at least half of them in the matter of a day. That amused smile spread across her lips as she allowed him to move effortlessly through his home. There was so much to see... so much that lined the walls. This space was filled to the brim with photos, paintings and every little memento of something that meant something to his life. It felt intimate being able to see just a little more. Her gaze wandered and yet... she could hardly help but find herself staring at the muscles beneath his skin, that moved beneath the surface or the way those jeans snug his butt. How had she noticed before how good it looked in a pair of jeans. How aware she was of him, every nuance, the way his scent was something she could have sprawled out and basked within.

The grandiose door opened as Matteo reached for it with his free hand to admit them both inside. The door closed softly shut into the darkened room illuminated by firelight that danced the fireplace. It was left on as if waiting for them. Had... he known this would happen? Had he prepared for it? Did he always have the fireplace running? Who did that? Maybe if she had more fireplaces than she could count, she would very well make use of them. The room was large and how her gaze swept across it all. That room far more him than even his archive of memories. It was all in the details. A book that sat half read by an armchair. Papers that were strewn across the table in an orderly fashion as if he had been busy working before she had arrived. The french doors to the balcony were also open, allowing the fresh country air to pool into that room and yet nothing to could quite diminish the scent of him still.

The flames flickering within that impish breeze that toyed with her exposed flesh. If she didn't know any better it was he who controlled it. There was such opulence within this room, she could see that much even in the firelit room. What was it about firelight that set the mood for one's ardour. Her vibrant violet eyes easily adjusted to such little light.... She found she didn't really need much anyway. Yet how could one miss that bed, the massive untouched bed that sat in the middle of the room? Not a single wrinkle appeared on its smooth surface. It was strange considering the rest of the room was lived in. Between the flickering flames and stationary moonlight, it looked as if it set the perfect stage. How easy it was to lose herself to the subtle sounds that existed around her, testing her as if the fire wished to heat her flesh and the wind sought to explore it.

Harley studied that bed with a curiosity. Yet Matteo was the first one to comment on it. It was impossible to tell which side he preferred to sleep on. She wished to question him on which he revealed. "How do you not sleep well with a bed like that?" Harley found that question left her all the same. How he wasted no time in tugging her down onto that pristine bed. It felt wrong to mess it up and yet how little she cared. "I don't think it will be so.... Perfect for long." She nearly whispered wryly to herself feeling the comfort of her beneath her. How soft it was. Such an extravagant bed was wasted if only used for sleeping. Not another word could leave her lips before she was joined by him and those lips she found she missed. Yet he wasted so little time upon her lips as that decent downward left her wondering just where he would cease. It was like he wished to decorate her skin with his soft and eager kisses.

The fire played like illusions within that very room, illuminating half his face in the soft flickering glow. Her breath quivered beneath the heated press of his mouth before his hands found the hem of her jeans that he slipped from her figure. How did she end up naked before him? He could now see all of her and she had yet to see all of him, there was an injustice to it and yet it was not enough to stop her hips from rising to help in the removal of whatever was left upon her petite figure.

She settled softly upon that bed again, the plush softness of sheets met her skin. She wanted to feel him. He watched her, his gaze slid across her form as if he was content to watch her, study her. His gaze lingered upon that intricate tattoo of her hip, of a bird holding on to a vine of thorns. It was as if there were supposed to be flowers in bloom on them. It was hard to determine if the thorns clung to the bird, entrapping it or the bird controlled the thorny vine that snakes around her outer thigh in a dainty but somewhat intricate design. How... she was always described as a rose within a garden or more likely a morose but beautiful haunting flower on a tombstone. Yet how cruel life had been. To but a rose whose only purpose was to look pretty. To be obtained until it withered and died. What she had learned to covet from herself were the thorns, the sharpened points that were part of one's defence. How.. that meaning of that very tattoo meant so much... and yet each time the story of it could be different, to represent her life in its current state. Maybe one day.. She wondered in those quiet moments alone she wondered if she would ever be that peaceful rose. Harley scoffed at the thought. Overrated. For there was beauty in the strongest parts of the rose too. Its roots.. And stalk.. Petals would always wither and fade only to be replaced.

Yet that was far from his mind nor... his. His eyes seemed to linger upon that permanent stain upon her skin and yet she was quite certain it wasn't curiosity there but desire. Harley sprawled out upon that bed naked, felt nothing but hot desire beneath that careful scrutiny. A soft sound of want stirred from his throat. How she wished there were no jeans to hinder her view. She arched her back as if to stretch out languidly upon the sheets. What was he waiting for? She thought he meant to take it slow as in the movements of his hips... not make her suffocate with need.

"Matteo." Her words etched with a desire as ancient as him. It might as well have been a please, a word she refused to use unless drenched in scorn. Her voice echoed that desire that coiled within her body. It seemed to prompt him to move. He may have been immortal, but she was not. She was ready to drag him to her if he didn't. She wanted to exalt in his very touch, in the feel of his body. He moved fluidly, to position her so he could have complete access to her feminine form and she was willing to oblige. Her breath shuddered from her lips as his hands met her eager skin. She glared at him. He was teasing her. That look alone mirrored that promise that she would return the favour the moment she regained a semblance of control. If this was him taking his time with her.. It was excruciating. Her body held in such a way that left him completely in control of her. He wanted her to beg... she fucking knew it. "For the love of.." Oh. Those words her abruptly silenced when his hand shifted quickly then. Oh god. How sensitive she felt. She didn't know... she could feel that level of sensation with just the feel of fingers alone. She exhaled sharply, everything swept away in a heartbeat. How her body wanted to clench around that sensation and yet all she could do was allow for those muscles to tense and yet not around him, her leg trapped upwards between them so that she was at his mercy. He held her perfectly exposed to his expert touches. A sound she was unable to hold back escaped like a sigh of relief. Breath became deeper and far less controlled. How she was unable to stay still, her body seemed to move as if he was impossibly too far away and how she wanted all of him all at once.

How demanding she was and yet how he swept her from herself. Her toes curled beneath the sensation of his cursed and cherished movements. Harley's limb was released to allow it to return so she could have some control left of her body.

An unbidden moan escaped her parted lips but his mouth was pressed against her own, swallowing the sound as if he could consume it. His tongue was seeking, her own meeting his in a strange new dance of sensation. Her hands were upon him, her fingers pressed against his flesh as if she needed to hold onto something. How he could make her feel like she was drowning and he was oxygen. His hand never ceased its movements as if he knew exactly where to brush his fingertips over and over, where to linger. How she was willing to let him do anything he wanted to her as long as he just didn't stop. The pressure built within her body, she was sure she wanted to feel more than just his gifted hands.

Her body shifted... so she could change their position that she didn't want to relinquish and yet he was far too clothed and she was far too naked. She ended up hooking her leg around him and end up with his back pressed against the bed, that kiss barely breaking until she spoke the words that forced her to part that lock of lips. "Pants are not allowed on the bed." Like it wasn't his bed or play her like a damn fiddle. She smirked, it would seem her sarcasm hardly lessened nor that habit of playfulness. She was far hastier than him as she lowered down him to undo the button of his pants, undoing the button before hooking her fingers to tug them down his hips, down the long the althletic length of his legs. He sprung free from the cage that the demin was, how uncomfortable that must have felt to be so restricted. Discarding them onto the floor she felt like she had unwrapped a present. He was already aroused, he could attempt to keep that desire from his face but that sure as hell didn't lie. She could do nothing but appreciate the masculine form. He was solid muscle and yet not too bulky. Nor did he lack in any department, even despite how much she'd teased him relentlessly. It was vastly inaccurate from the truth that it was near laughable. Hell... he was hot before.. But there was something about looking at someone naked while naked that took it to a whole new level. A new level of oh damn the things I'd do to you. That thought mirrored in her widened gaze then.

"I take it back. I was wrong..Nothing about you is small." Not a bad thing to hear in bed from your future lovers lips. She was perched upon her knees, desire to feel him within her hands as she spoke those last words. Her fingers curl around the base of him before she stroked, judging how tightly to hold him. There was so much more that she could do than just with her hands, it was enough for her to near clench in anticipation. He exuded an eroticism that was all confident. She offered him a little more of that friction that surely he had been neglected.. Her own gaze boldly met his captivating silvery eyes whose look alone could have undone her before she moved once more so that she could straddle him, which in turn gave up her hold of him.

"I told you... that this was my position." She recalled that bizzare night where he ended up in her bed, that moment was far more innocent than this one. This time it was loaded with that devilish glint in her vibrant eyes. She felt him there against her, where his hands once were, an absence that was missed. She moved her hips to slide against him, the feel of him almost enough to cause her to shudder, that want to rub against him, all of his much like a feline... and yet so close to that spot they were inevitably heading went far beyond mere rubbing, especially considering how ready her body seemed for him, there was no denying that his fingers weren't magical things. She hardly stopped that back and forth movement all the same. Only... she moved so much slower in a tormenting movement. It was difficult to move so damn slow that she thought she'd crawl out of her own damn skin.... But he said slow didn't he? Or was it take ones time? Well one could argue that meant the same thing and with all the teasing of hers this was a form of payback she could deliver. She placed her hand upon his chest as she lowered down to press her lips against his own. "Slow enough for you? I think I can do this... all night." A big fat lie and she knew it, hell her expression, body, and the way her words wavered even with the challenge within them he could cut through it like a knife.