This is a {fanfic} of a story that I am creating-I know, then it's not called a fanfic..>_<;;-but I need critiques! (note that I wrote this at midnight...)
Nearly a month has passed since my first time with Daraith. Although we’ve done so numerous times since then, the pleasures of our first time remain fresh in my mind.
His whole physique stains the images that flow through my head: every curve and outward bend of his flesh that shape to his muscles and bones, every finger and point of skin that came in contact with my own flesh, the comforting warmth emanating from him that sealed me in a loving space of heat as he embraced me, my skin tingling as he caressed my limbs. His heated breath brushing across my cheek as he lightly whispered sweet things to me; his voice tenderly flowing into my ears, each word glazed in such sweetness that honey would seem to bitter.
My lips he laid his against and sucked at and nibbled tenderly, as he did the rest of my body until there left no spot that he did not claim his. He’d slide his tongue into my mouth, allowing me suck it gently until he decided to explore with it. He never missed an inch of my mouth, his tongue tracing along the curves of my teeth, the roof and floor of my mouth, the flesh of my cheeks. As he did these things I traced my fingers along his body and through his hair until he finished and continued to my neck and ears, sucking at the flesh again until he left marks on me.
His eyes, the grey and shadowy sparks of fire that met my own frequently for a sign of approval and pleasure. He seemed entranced as he moved, the trance breaking off for moments, exchanged with excitement from my approval. I never disapproved of his desires, although it may just be that I become perpetually overwhelmed with the events that occur within minutes, or confusion at his reasoning for doing things-therefore I agreed from curiosity. I realized, of course, that the most pleasure comes from not reasoning at all.
All these things and more I’d experience with him nearly every night. I loved it, I may be addicted to it. We love each other’s company, love the sweetness in each other’s words, the sensations when one’s flesh brushes against the others.
But it seems ceasing, only memories when apart from each other that time deforms into phantoms until our reunion refreshes the sparks. Time is painful, occasionally. I’d rather be forever by him with never a moment when our flesh does not make contact.
I am away from him now. Not far away, but away, sitting on the counter of the restroom with a narrow device in my hand. I’ve been staring at it for the past few minutes in what I can’t yet distinguish as shock or joy. I finally laid the thing on the counter and got to my feet, making my way way to the living room. Standing in front of the couch, I paced back and forth as I called his name. He stepped casually into the room, greeting me kindly and inquiring his presence. My eyes traced over his features calmly until his words brought my heart to my throat in pure nervousness. I sat, motioning him to do so as well.
Taking his hand, I gently calmed myself down until the silence became too unbearable and I had to speak. “I…we’re going to have a baby.” I managed to choke out the words, but I still felt sick. I never planned on this, and I’m sure he never planned on it either. I lifted his hand and placed it gently on my stomach, impatiently waiting for a response from the father.
~~~~~~His part~~~~~~~~~~
He was silent for a moment, his eyes never breaking from mine as they flickered, glazed over for a moment, then focused once more upon me. There were no words, only a brush of his careful fingers over my cheek while a hint of a smile appeared on his face. We stayed that a long while until he pulled me into an embrace, whispering.
“Avrestal gertam. So it shall be.”
{Insert colorful curse words here}
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